


Vested Interest

by ErinDarroch, suezahn



Series: Kismet [5]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Angst, F/M, Friendship, Post-Star Wars: A New Hope, Pre-Star Wars: The Empire Strikes Back, Romance, Rumors, Serricci, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-03 20:05:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6624385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErinDarroch/pseuds/ErinDarroch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/suezahn/pseuds/suezahn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five months after the Battle of Yavin, Han Solo and Leia Organa are growing closer...and people are talking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the _Kismet_ series. 
> 
> It takes place immediately after the events of _Full Circle_ by Suezahn. You may wish to read that story first.
> 
> With thanks to our beta readers: YellinYee, BonesBooth206 and Gus Downey.

…the heart is slow to learn  
What the swift mind beholds at every turn.  
— Edna St. Vincent Millay: _Pity Me Not_

 

Every man has three characters—that which he exhibits,  
that which he has, and that which he thinks he has.  
—Alphonse Karr (1808 – 1890)

* * *

 

“What were you two doing up _there_ , I wonder?” The teasing voice of Lieutenant Keris Aldric floated through the warm, humid air of the early Serricci evening, reaching Princess Leia Organa’s ears just as she finished descending the access ladder that led from the roof of the Alliance Command Center.

Keris’s sudden appearance and vexing question startled Leia, and she released the last rung as if it were hot. Dusting her hands off on the seat of her khaki trousers, Leia turned to see her friend emerging from the shadowed road that bisected the Rebels’ jungle base. Keris was dressed, like Leia, in an Alliance-issued uniform, and her dark blonde hair was arranged in a practical, work-friendly knot at the nape of her neck. As she watched her friend approach, Leia found herself chafing her own hands together in a nervous gesture, then folded her arms across her chest to stop herself fidgeting. 

Captain Han Solo had only just descended the ladder a few minutes ahead of Leia, heading back towards the _Millennium Falcon_ , but Leia had lingered on her lofty perch, in part to avoid exactly the sort of awkward scrutiny she now found herself under, and in part simply to watch him go. With the taste of his mouth still on her lips, and the pleasant tingling that had accompanied his kiss still coursing throughout her body, Leia had felt simultaneously reluctant and relieved to see him leave. Even the distant sight of his loose-limbed, confident stride had been enough to set her pulse racing all over again, and she didn’t yet know what she was going to do about that.

“Oh, you know,” Leia responded to Keris’s question with a nonchalant air, “we were just making love under the stars….” She rolled her eyes with a smile, and hoped her mocking exaggeration would forestall any further inquiry about what she and Han Solo had _actually_ been doing together on the rooftop. She probably should have known better. 

“It’s about time you got around to that,” Keris joked as she closed the distance between them and gave Leia a warm smile in return, although her brown eyes twinkled in a way that promised she wouldn’t be dropping the subject so easily. Over the span of five months since they’d met back on the Rebel base on Yavin IV, they’d developed a close friendship that Leia had come to value highly. Keris had proved to be exactly the sort of open, wise, and trustworthy friend Leia needed most, particularly when it came to confiding details of her complex feelings about a certain Corellian spacer and his often baffling behaviour. 

Keris raised an eyebrow at Leia’s lack of response to her quip, and prompted her again. “Although the roof of the Command Center seems like an odd place to begin a romance….” 

Leia winced, and finally found her voice. “I’m joking, of course. We were just talking.” 

“Really?” Keris narrowed her eyes, fixing Leia with an analytical gaze. “Something in your face tells me you were doing a bit more than talking.” 

Leia reflexively covered her mouth with one hand, then jerked it down as Keris’s expression changed to a victorious grin. 

“I _knew_ it.” 

Leia groaned, shaking her head in defeat. As much as she’d once prided herself on her political savvy, the look of vindication on Keris’s face drove home the fact that she’d just been out-maneuvered. Although she probably would have discussed tonight’s unanticipated milestone with her friend eventually, she’d hoped to have a little time first to sort out the feelings stirred up by their first kiss. 

First _kiss? Sounds like you’re expecting more. Do_ not _get carried away, Organa._  

“It’s not what you think,” Leia attempted to mitigate her own obvious guilt at being caught in apparent consort with the roguish smuggler. 

“And what is it that I’m thinking?” Keris asked with an innocent air. 

Leia wasn’t falling for that trap a second time. She recognized that she might still be rather naive when it came to affairs of the heart, but she wasn’t an idiot. Instead of responding to the question, she shook her head and gestured back down the pathway in the direction from which her friend had emerged. “Are you heading back to quarters?” 

Although Keris maintained her air of open curiosity, to Leia’s relief she didn’t press the matter, but instead shrugged. “I was looking for you to see if you’re planning to watch the holovid they’re showing in the Mess later tonight, but if you’d rather talk, or just be alone…” 

Leia’s first instinct, for reasons she didn’t even fully understand, was to keep her private moment with Han to herself, but suddenly the last thing she felt like doing was being alone. “Have you eaten yet?” 

“No. Let’s do that.” 

In consensus, they started walking together, keeping conversation simple as they headed for the building that housed the mess hall. Once inside, after both had acquired a tray of various food items and a drink, they paused to glance around at the assortment of long tables in the center of the room, most of the spots still occupied by other Rebels who’d also just finished their shifts. Then Keris spotted an empty booth that lined the far wall of the hall and nodded in that direction. Leia followed her, hoping immersion in the noise and hustle of the busy dining hall would be enough to provide a sort of privacy. She was almost certain of where the dinner conversation would go tonight and wasn’t at all sure she was up to engaging in it, let alone risk having it overheard. 

Sure enough, after a few minutes of light chatting as they ate, Keris leaned in and gave Leia a meaningful look. “So...I’m dying to know...” 

Leia finished chewing, swallowed, then sighed. “It wasn’t planned. I just decided to go up for the view, and to be alone. He found me up there.” 

Keris looked a little dubious at that. “He just _found_ you. On the roof?” 

Leia shrugged, silently agreeing with her friend’s skeptical expression. “Somebody must have seen me go up the access ladder, and he probably asked around.” 

“Of course he did,” Keris said with a knowing tone and nod of the head. 

Leia looked up from where she’d been pondering her nearly empty plate. “What does that mean?” 

Keris shrugged and gave her a smile. “He seems to be doing that a lot lately.” 

“Doing what?” 

“Asking around for you. Practically every time he comes into the Command Center, it’s you he’s looking for. It’s become...noticeable.” 

Despite the cool air-conditioned atmosphere of the large room, Leia could feel her cheeks growing warm again. “Oh. It’s only because he wants something.” 

Keris nearly choked on her kaffe, and Leia instantly regretted her comment. It was amazing sometimes how her friend could make a simple conversation seem suddenly riddled with double meanings. 

“Oh, you _know_ what I mean!” Now fully conscious of just how red her cheeks probably appeared, she brought a hand up to hide her face from any potential spectators. “Han’s figured out that tomorrow is Luke’s birthday. It’s his Majority, actually. Han asked me to requisition a few things for a small celebration tomorrow night in Rogue Squadron’s quarters.” 

Keris’s head tipped back a little in discovery, then she nodded. “That sounds good. They could use a break to blow off a little steam.” 

“Yes, I think so, too. It’s at 21:00. You’re invited. It’s unofficial, of course,” Leia added at the end, mindful that this was still a military facility in a time of war. There was no question that the recently dubbed Rogue Squadron, which was formed from combining the remnants of Red Squadron, Gold Squadron, and the new influx of Rebel pilots and crew, could use an excuse to strengthen their comradeship. While it was against regulations in the strictest sense, she couldn’t really see the harm in indulging in a little fraternization for morale purposes. 

“Of course. High Command probably wouldn’t sanction that, but sometimes it’s easier to get forgiveness than to get permission.” Keris followed that up with a little wink. “And a Majority Day is a good excuse.” 

“Right. Actually...it’s odd.” 

“What’s odd?” 

Leia wasn’t even certain how to voice her thoughts. As if her mind weren’t already swimming in baffling questions surrounding her most recent interaction with Solo, there was the whole shared discovery of yet another coincidence with her other close friend, Luke. She hesitated, giving her confidante a pointed look. “This is confidential. It’s my Majority tomorrow, as well.” 

Keris set her cup of kaffe down and sank back in her seat, giving Leia a look of open disbelief. “You’re joking.” 

Leia shook her head. “No, I’m not. I would have been…” She stopped herself. That particular topic—of what should have been her coming of age and coronation on Alderaan—was still too sensitive, too recent, for her to dredge up. Instead, she redirected her energy. “Like I said, I’d prefer to keep this between us. It’s easily verifiable because it was public knowledge on Alderaan, and General Rieekan might remember. But nobody else here knows. Well, except for Han now, too.” 

Keris raised an eyebrow, seeming to gain a flash of insight from Leia’s comment. “So he found you up there thinking about all that.” 

Leia dipped her head in agreement. “I hadn’t meant to tell him, but I was surprised when he told me about Luke. And he…” 

Leia stopped herself again, now genuinely torn on whether or not to continue. She glanced around at their surroundings—the dull hum of many conversations, the clatter of eating utensils, trays and shifting chairs offered its own sort of privacy, but it didn’t help with her general sense of wanting to keep events to herself. She debated how to broach a topic she wasn’t convinced she wanted to talk about. “Are you familiar with Corellian customs?” 

Keris’s dark blonde eyebrows shot up, then one dropped back down into a skeptical look. “Well, I’m not Corellian, but I dated one or two before the war.” 

Leia’s mood lightened a little. She hadn’t expected Keris to be an expert, but she was relieved to discover that her friend had some knowledge of the subject. “Have you ever heard of a Majority Kiss?” 

Keris managed to maintain her straight face for about three long counts before she started to chuckle. “Is that what he called it?” 

The gentle blush Leia had been feeling since their conversation had turned toward Han flared into full-on core meltdown as her earlier worry that she’d been played for a fool resurfaced. 

“Well, what did he tell you?” Keris prompted. 

Realizing that there was little point in holding back, Leia sighed. “That it was in lieu of a proper gift he’d give me later.” 

This time Keris broke out in a full laugh, but she must have recognized the creeping mortification in Leia’s expression because she calmed down after a moment and leaned forward, meeting her eyes directly. “Yes, giving a kiss when you don’t have a gift _is_ a real Corellian custom. The event isn’t important so much as the intent. For what it’s worth, he was probably serious.”

“It felt serious,” Leia admitted quietly. 

Keris’s eyebrows rose again as she tipped her head to one side. “And then there’s that…” 

“There’s what?” 

“Let’s just say that it explains a few things.” 

With an entirely new sense of dread, Leia laid her fork down and gave up the pretense of eating. If she’d had any common sense, she’d have gotten up and headed for the refuge of her private quarters without asking any more questions. But she felt increasingly bewildered by her own emotions, and compelled to seek insight from her more experienced friend. _Rip off the Bacta bandage_ , she thought. 

“It explains what?” 

“There are rumors going around. You know, the usual sort of silly chatter stuff. But lately there’s been more about Solo in particular. With you.” 

Leia straightened up in her seat, and felt her expression pinch into a mix of confusion and concern. “With me?” 

“Well, sure. Like I said, he’s always asking around for you. And you’re almost always there to meet him when he arrives—” 

“But that’s my _job_!” 

“—and you’re the last to see him off when he leaves.” 

Leia brought up a hand to rub her forehead, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. 

“Add to that the fact that you have dinner with him on board his ship—” 

“With Luke! _And_ Chewie!” she interjected, feeling the need to defend herself yet again. 

“—whenever he gets back from a run.” 

Leia began shaking her head, simultaneously dismayed and exasperated by the implications of Keris’s words. She sighed. “We’re _friends_.” 

“Of course you are. That’s plain to see.” Keris’s tone was not the least bit mocking, and the smile she gave Leia was kind. “In fact, that’s a great place to start. He’s clearly a friend.” 

“He said as much tonight,” Leia admitted, finding the confirmation here a little more reassuring. _A friend wouldn’t take advantage of me, would he?_  

“You’ve been with this group long enough now to know what it’s like around base.” Keris shrugged. “In between missions, people get bored and look for drama. There’s the occasional tryst, but for the most part things are pretty dull, you know? So when they start to notice a pattern…” 

“A pattern…” Leia repeated under her breath, staring down at the remnants of her meal. 

“He’s an attractive and unattached man, and a hero of the Rebellion. You’re young and beautiful...and single, too. Not to mention a bit glamorous—” 

Leia gave a very unglamorous snort of derision.         

“Well, relatively speaking,” Keris grinned at Leia’s display of skepticism and shrugged. “You’re a highly visible public figure. People are going to notice what you do.” 

“Yes, but...well, so is Luke. I spend just as much time with him.” 

“You think so?” Keris raised an eyebrow. “I’ve heard one or two things about him, too, but not in connection with you. And not nearly as much as about you and Han. There’s an obvious attraction going on, and you _do_ spend a lot of time together. For people who are starved for a little excitement, that’s like a magnet.” Keris paused, seeming to debate with herself over whether or not to say more, then shrugged as she made up her mind. “I know for a fact that several of the women here—and a couple of the men—have been chasing Han for months, but he’s yet to take any of them up on it.” 

This was another surprise, and Leia’s eyes widened a little at the discovery. In the first month or so of their acquaintance she’d noted with some irritation how freely Han exchanged flirtatious winks and suggestive comments with females of every description. She’d formed an initial impression of him as an indiscriminate scoundrel whose easy banter did little to disguise an unprincipled character. That impression had been dispelled almost as quickly as her perception of him as a ruthless mercenary, which had dissolved in the face of his continued service to the Alliance at steadily diminishing rates, and despite the fact that he repeatedly expressed his intention to move on. After his abrupt reversal during the Battle of Yavin, Leia began to notice how often his actions belied his words—and now her usually reliable sixth sense told her that most of his roguish behavior was an act as well. 

Her own behaviour, she realized with a pang, was just as transparent. Although she spent much of her time between shifts with Keris or on her own—or with Luke when he was around—she had to admit that the pattern invariably changed whenever Han was back on base. 

 _I enjoy his company_ , she thought irritably. _What’s wrong with that?_  

“Actually,” Keris continued, interrupting Leia’s thoughts. “In the women’s barracks yesterday, I overheard Aslin Mori complaining about him.” 

Keris paused to cast a surreptitious glance around the room, in case the woman in question was nearby. 

Leia looked around, too, and was relieved to see that their nearest neighbors were seated a comfortable distance away. Nevertheless, she lowered her voice as she asked for clarification. “Complaining?” 

“Yes. Apparently, he’s ‘all talk’ and ‘no action.’” Keris laughed at the description. “She was telling her friends that she’d given up trying to get anywhere with him by being subtle, so she flat-out propositioned him a few days ago.” 

“How charming.” Leia attempted to sound droll, but inside she was a mix of conflicting emotions. 

“Aslin said she wanted to find out once and for all if he was actually interested in some...action...or if he’s just a hopeless flirt.” 

Leia snorted. “Oh, he’s a hopeless flirt, all right.” She rolled her eyes for added emphasis. “I hope Aslin Mori got all the ‘action’ she was after.” 

“That’s the thing, Leia. She didn’t get anything. He turned her down.” 

“Well, it’s nice to know he has _some_ taste.” Leia winced as soon as the words left her mouth. She generally tried to keep above the usual gossip around the base, but she was starting to sound downright bitchy, and she didn’t know where that was coming from. While the idea of anyone so blatantly targeting another person for casual sex struck her as rather crass—and even vulgar—it was none of her business. The fact that the target happened to be Han Solo just made it seem even more so. “Nevermind that, I don’t care. He’s an adult. They both are. So long as it doesn’t interfere with our operations here, they’re free to do whatever they want.” 

“That’s very true,” Keris agree with a sage nod and an abiding smile, as though she still knew more than she was letting on. “The point is that you’re the only one he ever seems to have any time for.” 

Leia’s stomach fluttered, but she couldn’t be sure if the cause was excitement or trepidation. To cover her consternation, she lifted her cup, took a sip of cold kaffe and cringed at the taste. If Han had, in fact, refused multiple opportunities for the sort of common pleasures that many people on base freely indulged in, it was no wonder that rumours were flying. Leia felt inexplicably gratified and dismayed all at once, as well as utterly adrift in unfamiliar territory. As the only daughter of a royal house, she was long accustomed to superficial flirtations, and adept at fielding attempts by charming men to win her affections. But this thing with Han—whatever it was—felt very different. 

Keris’s words also made her realize just how much Han’s behaviour had changed in recent months. Now that she thought about it, she couldn’t remember the last time he’d openly flirted with someone else while in her presence. And although he’d often teased Leia, and made suggestive comments whenever an opportunity arose, these days his advances were beginning to feel more serious than playful. Keris’s observation only seemed to underscore that fact. 

“I don’t know what to say about that,” Leia finally admitted, shrugging ruefully at Keris’s amused smile. “I don’t think I’ve given him any particular encouragement in that direction.” 

Keris was silent for a moment, apparently considering Leia’s words. “Sometimes men see what they want to see.” She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. “But that makes me wonder, why _haven’t_ you given him any encouragement?” 

Leia felt slightly bewildered by the question. “What do you mean? Why would I?” 

It was Keris’s turn to look flummoxed. “Leia! You’re nineteen years old...well, twenty,” she corrected herself. “Han Solo is available, gorgeous, and clearly as interested in _you,_ as you are in him. So what's the story?” 

Leia, feeling increasingly flustered by the line of questioning, began gathering up the detritus of her meal onto the empty tray, and retreated into safer conversational territory. “We’re at war, Keris. I really don’t have the time or inclination for that sort of nonsense.” 

Keris’s brown eyes widened. “Well, even in wartime ‘that sort of nonsense’ can keep you sane, Leia. _Especially_ in wartime. You’ve been through a hell of a lot in the past six months. All you do is work and worry. You deserve a little fun.” 

“That’s just it. I’m not interested in fun.” 

Keris began to pile her own waste onto the tray while shaking her head in bemusement. “That’s quite possibly the saddest statement I’ve ever heard.”   

“Oh, you know what I mean! I’m not interested in anything...casual.” 

“Ah, so now we come to it. You want more?” 

Leia’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t know _what_ I want. I certainly don’t have the time or energy to try guessing at what _he_ wants.” She glanced around, relieved to notice that some of the mess hall staff were beginning to clean up and rearrange the unoccupied chairs and tables. “Looks like they’re starting to set up for the vid tonight. I think I’m going to skip it and get some rest. I’m feeling a little tired.” 

Keris nodded, although something in her faint smile hinted that she saw through the excuse. “Hey, don’t let the idle gossip get to you. Like I said, some people have nothing better to do in their downtime. I just thought that you should know.” 

Leia accepted that with a nod as she slid to the edge of her bench and got to her feet. “Thanks, I appreciate it. I’ll see you tomorrow. Enjoy the show,” she added before turning and walking toward the clean-up station with her tray.    

Leia headed back out into the night and paused beyond the door in the pale blue glow of the artificial light that ringed the Mess Hall. She peered out into the pitch blackness of the surrounding jungle, listening to the now-familiar sounds of the local insects and occasional calls of larger creatures hidden in the thick undergrowth. After a moment, she glanced up with the hope of spotting the stars again, but the light surrounding her now overpowered their faint twinkles high above. A deep breath of the thick, humid air did little to calm her thoughts or nerves. 

Much as she liked to think of herself as mature and worldly in some matters, her agitated state —in response to a single kiss!—revealed just how much she had yet to learn about the galaxy, and about personal relationships in particular. It was bad enough that Han had unquestionably escalated things an hour or so ago. But to learn that the two of them were already a topic of idle conversation around the base added a whole new layer of stress to her life that she did not need. One lesson her courtly upbringing had certainly taught her was that battling rumors was a tricky and potentially dangerous endeavor—the more one tried to smash them, the more likely they were to splinter and fly out in new directions. Matters were made more complex by the fact that Han had just kissed her for real, leaving her no defense in the face of such gossip. 

She scuffed the toe of her boot into the hard-packed dirt and sighed. If she couldn’t address the rumours directly, she supposed, she’d have to quell them by avoidance. As she crossed the broad road that separated the Mess Hall from the structure housing her private quarters, Leia resolved to put some distance between herself and Captain Solo, beginning with the party tomorrow night.


	2. Chapter 2

There was no delicate way of putting it. Princess Leia Organa was drunk. Or if she wasn’t exactly drunk, Han Solo thought, she was at least well past tipsy. 

Despite the fact that he’d come to know her in a variety of settings and situations over the few months since they’d established the Rebel base here on Serricci, she’d always maintained a consistent control over herself, even during those times when she seemed at her most relaxed. But this was turning into a night of revelations. 

The section of the general barracks that housed the Rogue Squadron pilots was packed with people, the efficient rows of two-tiered bunks and personal storage crates that made up the scant furnishings serving as makeshift seating arrangements and spontaneous tables. What had started as a small gathering of his friends and close colleagues sharing a quick toast to celebrate the Majority Day of their Commander, Luke Skywalker, had now blossomed into a full party, as word within the lower ranks spread. Han really couldn’t blame them. It was probably the first such informal celebration that any of the Alliance personnel had enjoyed since before the destruction of the _Death Star_ five months ago. 

While most of the celebrants continued to make an effort to keep things quiet and below the notice of High Command, the music volume kept creeping up and the buzz of conversation kept growing louder to match it. Han realized that it was probably only a matter of time before the party spilled out of the now claustrophobic quarters and word reached the wrong ears. Under normal circumstances—or what might have passed for normal circumstances—Han would have been inclined to head back to his ship before the authorities arrived, but his motivation to leave the party suddenly melted away when an inebriated princess landed a little hard on the edge of the lower bunk, in the spot beside him that had opened up moments before. 

“Goddess, what _is_ this stuff?” she murmured, peering into the rather large tumbler someone had evidently borrowed from the Mess Hall. 

“You probably don’t want to know,” Han grinned back. “The Corellian brandy I brought is already gone. They’re calling this stuff ‘jungle jet juice’.” 

Her pretty face scrunched up into an expression of disapproval, but she took another cautious taste anyway. He couldn’t help chuckling as she downed it, made the face again, then sighed and leaned heavily against him. 

Han raised an eyebrow in surprise at the casual intimacy. He’d noticed with some disappointment how Leia had actively avoided him all day, and how she’d stuck close to her friend Lieutenant Aldric all evening, while mingling with others at what he suspected was a safe distance from himself. He’d wondered if that was her way of dealing with the simple kiss that had caught them both by surprise the evening before. 

Throughout the day, his own thoughts had continually returned to the memory of the quiet interlude on the Command Center rooftop, where he’d found her musing over her own looming Majority Day. He’d offered her a kiss in lieu of a gift and, to his lasting astonishment, she’d accepted it. In fact, she’d seemed to enjoy it as much as he had, and he’d spent the rest of the evening back at the _Falcon_ feeling very pleased with himself. Her subsequent avoidance this evening, however, made it seem as if she were regretting the episode. 

For the moment, however, her friend Keris seemed to have disappeared, and the princess had either succumbed to the need to sit, or she was taking advantage of the opportunity. He peered down to where her dark head rested against his upper arm. 

“Happy birthday, Leia,” he murmured in a voice low enough that only she could hear him. She’d discovered only last night, during the course of their rooftop conversation, that she shared a galactic birth date with Luke—even down to the exact year. For reasons she hadn’t needed to explain, she’d asked Han to keep that information to himself, and he had. He knew the occasion must be more bitter than sweet for her, but he didn’t want the day to pass without at least one good wish from a friend.   

She tilted her head against his shoulder to glance up at him, and gave him a melancholy smile. “Thank you.” 

This was the first time all evening that he’d gotten an up-close view, and his practiced eye spotted the tell-tale signs that this cup full of booze wasn’t Leia’s first. It certainly explained the relaxed demeanor she was showing in public. Not that he was complaining. Although she was dressed in standard-issue uniform khakis with her head wrapped in practical braids, the heat in the overcrowded barracks had brought a flush and a fine sheen of perspiration to her skin that reminded him of how she looked whenever he saw her in running gear, after one of her half-mad circuits through the Serricci jungle. He dragged his gaze away for a moment, scanning the jostling, noisy crowd of Rebels around them, then redirected it back down at his matching mess hall tumbler. 

“Better take it easy with this stuff, Princess. It’s sweet, but it’ll catch up with you,” he cautioned, even as he took another swallow from his cup. His own eyes had begun to glaze over after he’d downed a generous quantity of the base-brewed spirit, in addition to the healthy measures of Corellian brandy and the flask or two of ale he’d imbibed. 

“I’m used to drinking wine, but this…” Leia gave her cup a deliberate wobble. 

“You like wine, huh?” That little revelation piqued Han’s curiosity. He looked down at her, smiling faintly at the way her cheek was squashed up against his arm. She’d clearly had a bit too much of the mystery punch already. “You have a favorite?” 

“Mmm, ” Leia straightened up and seemed to sober slightly, to give the question careful consideration. “I _love_ wine. There was a vineyard on Alderaan, owned by friends of the family. Faenel Vineyards.” She blinked slowly, her thoughts far away. “They made the most _delicious_ brandy. And beautiful wine.” 

She lifted her dark eyes then and gazed up at him, licking her lips. “Do you think you could find me a bottle from Alderaan?” 

Han was certain she hadn’t meant to look so seductive when she asked the question, but the effect on him was much the same as if she had. He couldn’t stop the smile that began to spread across his face as he looked at her. It was very unlike Leia to request anything specific from his smuggling runs for her personal use, although she seemed to appreciate the small items—Kavasa fruits and the like—that he sometimes brought back just for her. Her habitual reserve seemed to have vanished tonight, though, washed away on a tide of jungle jet juice. It felt like he was looking at _Leia_ now—not the princess, nor the senator, or even the Rebel fighter—but Leia herself. And she was looking right back at him. In that moment, he thought he’d be able to find her a bottle of anything she wanted. 

Before he could answer her question, though, they were interrupted by the arrival of Luke Skywalker as he parted the standing crowd in front of them.   

“There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you two.” Luke gave them a bright, slightly tipsy, grin. 

“You found us,” Han smiled back, realizing as he said it how it sounded as though they’d deliberately tried to slip away for some privacy. With an odd thrill, he also realized how much he liked that idea. 

Skywalker seemed to be holding his own liquor fairly well tonight, Han observed. He suspected it was because the kid had gotten a bit of drinking practice living on that boring dustball of a planet as a teen, but he could nevertheless detect a new and distinct lean to port in Luke’s stance. 

“Come on, they’re taking holos over there.” Luke gestured toward the door that led out into the main hallway of the barracks. 

“Ah, no, kid, I’ll skip it,” Han refused with a shake of his head. He was never fond of having his holo taken, and he wasn’t about to abandon this new and fascinating spot beside an intoxicated princess. 

“Oh, come on!” Luke looked to Leia for support. She appeared even less inclined to get back to her feet, but when Luke held out his hand to offer help, she cast the quickest apologetic glance at Han before taking it. 

Han watched as the younger man pulled Leia to a standing position. Like Luke, she was somewhat unsteady on her feet, and the two of them rebounded off of each other, lurching and laughing at their own clumsiness. Leia clutched at Luke’s khaki shirt for balance and then, as if on impulse, she reached up to cradle his face with one hand, and planted a kiss on his lightly stubbled cheek. 

“Happy Majority Day, Luke,” she said, smiling up at him in open affection. 

“Thanks.” Luke’s flushed cheeks went a shade darker and he ducked his head with a grin. 

Han lifted his cup to his mouth to disguise the disquieting surge of emotion he felt when he looked at them. He couldn’t even put a name to it, but it was unfamiliar—and unpleasant. With a grimace, he tilted his head back and drained the rest of his cup, and was then surprised to feel Leia grab his free hand and give it a tug. 

“Come on, Captain. You’re coming with us.” 

Whether it was the extra dose of alcohol coursing through his system, or the teasing glint in her dark eyes that drew him, he allowed himself to be pulled from his seat and dragged through the crowd. 

They arrived at the doorway that led into the wide corridor, where a clearing had formed, with a tall Wookiee standing in the middle. Han should have guessed that his giant friend would be at the center of the gathering, his favorite holo-recorder in his big hairy hands. “Chewie, you are the biggest sap here!” Han called out over the heads and voices of the rows of people separating them. 

 _< <Until _you _arrived, >>_ Chewbacca hooted back. _< <Get over here. It’s your turn.>>_ 

Someone in the crowd called out for the heroes of the Battle of Yavin to pose together, a sentiment that was picked up by a second voice, and then suddenly they were surrounded by chants of “Pose! Pose! Pose!” 

Han rolled his eyes and tried to head back towards the main room, but Leia still had a grip on his hand, and he found himself being pulled forward as the small crowd parted for them. This fiasco was his own fault for letting them take all those ridiculous propaganda holos of them back on Yavin IV. Now everybody expected it of them. 

“I’m gonna need more fortification for this,” he groused, and felt a cup being pressed into his hand before the words had left his mouth. He gave a nod of thanks to the Rebel who’d supplied it, took a deep swallow of the sweet brew, and grimaced. 

“Me, too.” Leia mimicked, tipping her own tumbler up. She followed it yet again with that scrunched up face that seemed to get funnier every time he saw her do it. “Okay, Chewie, take your best shot!” Leia then called out, which launched a whole new round of cheers from the onlookers. 

This time Han did laugh. No doubt about it, he was seeing a new side to her—an exceptionally relaxed and friendly side—and he liked it. 

 _< <Get them together,>>_ Chewbacca encouraged Han, gesturing with one hairy paw to the trio while peering through the viewfinder on his holo-recorder. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Han responded. He was a little surprised to realize Leia’s hand was still firmly clasped around his, so he pulled her closer, while simultaneously holding out his other arm, cup still in hand, and indicating that Luke should step in. “Chewie says get closer.” The kid seemed happy to oblige and the three of them managed to hold still for a few moments. 

Once the holo was captured, he felt Leia release him. She took an unstable step away and turned a bright smile on him and Luke. “Now you two!” 

 _If my eyes roll anymore, they’re going to fall out and roll away_ , Han mused even as he slipped his arm higher to wrap around Luke’s neck in a quick headlock as his copilot recorded another holo. 

Luke was laughing along, and as soon as Han released him, he swung around and pointed a finger each at Han and Leia, indicating that they should pose together, too. 

Han glanced at the princess, and for just an instant he thought he detected a hint of surprise and uncertainty in her muddled eyes, then her broad grin resumed and she returned to his side, this time boldly sliding her arm around his waist to hug him tightly. On instinct, his arm draped down around her back and his hand rested on her hip to hold her there, and for just a moment time seemed to stop as he marveled yet again at how well she seemed to fit up against him. It had been five long months ago, during their triumphant return to the Yavin base following the battle, when he’d last felt her holding him close like this—it was a brief moment that had oddly burned into his brain and haunted him ever since. In fact, she looked so comfortably ensconced at his side now, leaning into him, that it was easy to imagine they’d been doing that for years. The warmth of feeling that he sensed emanating from her as she embraced him was an aspect of Leia he’d only suspected, but had never been able to confirm until tonight. She was lively and cheerful; openly affectionate, too, beaming a smile up at him as he tugged her in even closer. 

It was another instinct that made him duck his head down to whisper just loud enough for her to hear, “Whaddya say we blow this joint and go back to the roof?” 

He wasn’t at all sure what sort of reaction he was expecting, but he was pleasantly surprised when she laughed and gave him a playful rebuff, before leaning in to give him another tight squeeze. On impulse, he pressed a kiss to her temple, and she glanced back up with those impossibly dark, but somewhat hazy eyes to give him a direct smile. It must have been the lighting in the corridor, or more probably that second cup of jet juice, that made her eyes look so fathomless, as if he could fall right into them and drift in zero _g_. 

“Alright, break it up,” Luke nudged Han. 

The spell was broken and Han glanced up, then around, to realize that Chewbacca had moved on and was capturing holos of other groups of friends forming around him. 

“Awkward,” Luke supplied with a stern frown in their general direction before leaving them and beginning to angle back through the jostling throng toward the main barracks room. “My cup is empty.” 

Han grinned and shook his head as he watched Luke go, feeling pleasantly surprised at how the evening had taken an unexpected turn. Far from avoiding him or keeping her distance, Leia now seemed content to stay close. She remained tucked under his arm, pressed against him and laughing as she tipped her cup back yet again. He scanned the corridor, trying to decide whether or not to battle the crowd and return with her to the main room for a place to sit, or to take her outside for some air. Then he felt Leia’s grip shift around his waist and she tugged at the hem of his vest. 

“My cup is empty, too,” Leia announced, leaning into him and tilting the empty vessel towards him in illustration. 

A quick glance confirmed her claim and, despite his own solid buzz, Han felt the first stirrings of real concern. Her large tumbler had still been half-full when they were seated, just a few moments ago, and it should have been enough to last her the rest of the evening. He frowned as he looked down at her now, realizing with some dismay that he would have to reconsider his plans. Leia’s behaviour was becoming noticeably more uninhibited by the minute, and the last thing he wanted to see was the princess damaging her reputation with a drunken display. She’d moved from tipsy to decidedly drunk in a short period, and she’d just downed another generous measure of booze. Time seemed suddenly in short supply, and there was a whole new complication to consider. With a disappointed sigh, he shook his head. 

“Yeah, I think that’s the last thing you need right now,” Han told her as he cast a glance across the crowd that had spilled out of the room into the wide corridor, looking for a familiar face he could trust. Then he spotted one and called out, “Keris!” 

Fortunately the lieutenant was already heading in their direction and she perked to attention when he called her name. She worked her way through the revelers to finally reach them. 

“There you are,” Keris said to Leia, although her brown eyes continued to scan them both, taking in the scene before her. 

Leia held out her tumbler. “Have you tried this stuff? It’s _delicious_.” She pouted slightly at her empty cup. “But I’m all out.” 

Keris demonstrated her own level of experience with this sort of situation by instantly assessing Leia’s condition, and then locking her keen eyes on Han’s. “Bar’s closed.” 

“My thoughts exactly,” Han agreed. “Problem is…” He glanced around again and then tried to give her a pointed look. “I need your help. I’d rather not do this alone.” 

Keris hesitated only a moment to read his intent, then she nodded in delayed understanding. “Come on, Leia. It think it’s probably time for us to bow out for the night, before any generals show up.” 

“Alright,” Leia drawled agreeably enough, but then—without releasing her grip around Han’s waist—she leaned towards Keris with a conspiratorial air, and gestured back at Han, tapping his chest with her empty cup. “But can we take him with us? He’s starting to grow on me.” 

Keris bit her lip, and studiously avoided Han’s eyes as she dipped around to Leia’s other side. She extricated the tumbler from Leia’s grip and pressed it into the hand of a fellow Rebel nearby, then gently tugged at her friend’s elbow to draw her away from her cozy position. “Come on.” 

Leia balked and caught Han’s hand once more, leaning in to smile up at him with sparkling, unfocused eyes. “You’re coming.” Her words had the ring of a royal decree. 

Han knew for certain then that he’d done the right thing by encouraging her to curtail her evening, as well as in calling for reinforcements. “Fine, let’s just get out of here.” 

His agreement seemed to be enough to get Leia moving, and she offered no resistance as Keris helped Han walk her through the packed corridor and out into the humid night air. Aside from a sprinkling of other partygoers who had escaped to get some fresh air or to turn in, the circle of area within the blue artificial lighting was deserted. 

“That was _way_ more fun than I thought it’d be,” Leia pronounced, swaying against Keris with a beatific smile on her face. “We should definitely, definitely, definitely do that more often.” 

Han stood a good head taller than both women, so he easily peered over Leia to meet Keris’s amused glance. “Glad you had a good time, Princess, but it looks like the party’s over. We’d better get you to your quarters.” 

The last thing they needed was a chance encounter with Generals Dodonna or Rieekan. In unison and clearly of one mind, Han and Keris ushered Leia toward the side entrance to the Officer’s Quarters where her own private room was located. 

They finally reached the door and entered, but Han paused, never having been in this particular structure before. Keris nodded to indicate which way to go. “Down this way.” They passed several doors before she brought them to a halt. “This is our stop. Okay, we need your help, Leia.” 

“Oh.” Leia pulled her arm away from where it had been wrapped around Keris’s waist, and slapped her palm against the access panel a bit harder than she needed to. The narrow door slid open and Han moved in sideways, leading the trio into the small room. 

Keris triggered the door closed and the two of them paused to exchange relieved expressions as Leia swayed between them. “Good call, Han. That could have been awkward.” 

He nodded in agreement. “Can you take it from here?” 

The lieutenant smiled. “Yes, thank you. We’re good.” 

“Alright. Good night, Princess. Lieutenant.” He released Leia and turned to go, but lunged to grab her again as she began leaning at an alarming angle. Leia clutched at his arms and laughed. 

Completely oblivious to the fact that she'd nearly plummeted to the floor, she beamed up at him and drawled, "Hey, I wanna tell you somethin'." 

“Tell me tomorrow,” he advised, looking down into her bleary eyes. Whatever Leia wanted to say, he had a feeling she wouldn’t want an audience for it. Before she could speak again, Han gave Keris a pointed look and gestured with his head for her to help him. 

Keris intervened then, sliding an arm around Leia’s shoulders and steering her towards the bunk. 

“Come on, Leia. You need to sit down.” 

Han assisted from the other side and the two of them maneuvered their friend to a seat on the edge of the narrow bed. 

He sighed. “I sure hope she doesn’t get sick. She downed that last glass before I could stop her.” 

“I’ll get her some water,” Keris offered, and disappeared into the adjoining fresher. 

Han crouched in front of Leia, keeping a wary eye on her as she swayed on her perch. Her eyes drifted closed and remained that way, even as he lifted one foot to wrestle her boot off, and then attended to the other. He took hold of one ankle with the intent of pulling off the sock, but hesitated as his encircling fingers touched smooth skin. Her small foot wriggled against his hand as he dragged the sock down, and suddenly the simple act of removing that garment felt like the most intimate thing he’d done in a long, long time. The jungle jet juice was taking its toll on him as well, slowing his thought processes and making him hesitate far longer than he should have over what to do next. For a moment, he considered shoving the sock back on her foot. 

_I need to get the hell out of this bedroom._

But he was already committed to the act, so he finished the motion, dropped the sock to the floor and then, on impulse, covered the newly bare foot with his hand. Her skin was warm, impossibly soft and smooth, and for a brief moment he allowed his thumb to trace the delicate bones underneath. He looked up at Leia’s face then and felt his pulse elevate as he saw her returning his look through slitted eyes. She gave him the faintest of drowsy smiles. He released her then and sat back on his heels, feeling a familiar flicker of desire and a wash of some other emotion he couldn’t quite name. 

 _Do you have any idea what you’re doing, Princess?_  

She smirked at him and leaned back on straightened arms. “What about this one?” She lifted her other foot and waggled it in his face. 

From the fresher, Han could hear the sound of running water and the light clatter of Keris rummaging around. Looking at Leia’s sock-clad, wiggling foot, he shook his head, unable to suppress a grin at her playful teasing. 

“Alright, but hold still,” he admonished. 

In response, she extended her leg and planted the sole of her foot against his solar plexus, dutifully holding it still for a moment, then began scrunching her toes against his chest. He could have sworn he saw a glint of something in her brown eyes that said she knew _exactly_ what she was doing. Taking her slim ankle firmly in hand, he lifted the foot, stripped off the sock with quick efficiency and released her. She sat up then, gripping the edge of the bunk, and swayed a bit with her legs dangling off the edge. Her eyes drifted closed again, her smirk gradually fading. Han remained crouched in place to make sure she didn’t pitch forward, listening to the sounds of Keris still rattling around in the fresher as he watched Leia’s somnolent face. He couldn’t decide just how much of this playfulness was the real Leia peeking through, or just the effect of too much booze. 

“Y’know…,” Leia mumbled, eyes still closed. “What I need is an _assistant_.”  In her drunken state, her words were so slurred as to be almost unintelligible. She opened her eyes then, and tried to scan Han’s face, but seemed to have trouble focusing. Leaning forward, she cupped her hands over his ears, in an apparent attempt to hold his head still. She squinted down at him for a moment and then nodded her head, eyes drifting closed again. “Mmm, you’d do.” She let her hands drop back down to rest limply in her lap. 

Han couldn’t suppress a laugh. “You think so, Sweetheart?” 

Leia’s eyes drifted open again and she poked a finger at his chest. “You. Are. Not. Bad.” Leia enunciated each word carefully, narrowing her eyes and giving Han an appraising look. She mumbled something about his _credentials_. “But I needa check you out first.” 

“You can check me out later. I promise.” 

At some point Keris must have emerged from the fresher because Han heard her snort softly from behind him. “You're telling me you haven’t shown her your credentials yet?” she asked, while setting the glass of water on the desk next to Leia’s bunk. In her hands, she also had a damp face cloth, a dry towel and a handful of smaller items she’d collected from the fresher. 

Han glanced around and up at the lieutenant with raised eyebrows, surprised by the blatant double meaning of her words. “Believe me, I’ve offered.” 

Keris grinned back at him. “So I’ve heard.” 

“She’s not interested. At least, not when she’s sober.” Han shrugged a shoulder, attempting to feign a level of indifference that he was beginning to realize—with growing dismay—no longer applied to the woman swaying on the bunk in front of him. 

“That’s not entirely true.” 

Han’s head swivelled around again, and he saw immediately that Keris had not meant to make that statement aloud. The sudden look of chagrin and panic that swept across her face was a dead giveaway. Han looked at her for a long moment, considering her words. 

“You know I’m _right here_!” Leia interrupted with a suddenly irked tone before she turned away from them and collapsed sideways onto her bunk. 

Han turned back to stare at the petite princess, watching as she crawled forward atop the bunk until her head landed on a pillow and she grew still. His own head was swirling with thoughts he had no business thinking. He gripped the end of the bunk to steady himself, then straightened up from his crouch. _Serves you right for drinking too much, too,_ he thought with a measure of disgust.   

“I’d better go.” 

Keris nodded, returning her attention to her friend now curled up on top of the covers of the bunk. 

Han palmed open the door and stepped out, but was surprised to find Keris following him into the corridor. She kept the door open to avoid being locked out, but she clearly wanted to say something out of earshot of the semi-conscious princess. 

“There’s not much more I can do, either. She’s just got to sleep it off.” Keris shrugged. “She’ll hate herself in the morning.” 

Han nodded, finding himself in the rare situation of not knowing what to say. Although he’d occasionally spoken with Keris in the past, it wasn’t often and he didn’t pretend to know her well. What he did know was that she and Leia had seemed to form a warmer friendship than he’d seen the princess do with anyone other than himself, Luke, or Chewbacca. And now, more than ever, he was reminded that the two women were probably even closer in some ways. 

“Thanks for looking after her,” he said simply, and meant it. 

Keris smiled. “I was about to say the same thing. I’m glad you intervened before anything too embarrassing happened.” She tipped her blonde head to one side and continued to give Han an assessing look, as if she were reaching her own conclusions about him. “Look…We’ve probably all had too much to drink tonight, and I shared something that I shouldn’t have.” 

There was no question what she was referring to. Han couldn’t stop the echo of her revealing words from swimming around inside his head. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

“No…. It was flippant and…now I feel like I need to explain.” Keris checked both directions of the quiet corridor to make sure they were still alone, then continued in a soft voice. “How Leia’s acting tonight….  We’re all adults here, so I’m going to be straight with you, Han. We can all see the attraction going on between you two, but she’s under a _lot_ of stress, for obvious reasons, and she’s not in a good place to be making any sort of decision like that, at least not right now. I slipped up in there when I said that, but I take being her friend very seriously. You get my meaning?” 

Han stared down at Keris. The petite blonde Rebel reminded him of Leia in many ways, but she was closer to his own age, and she clearly understood the darker sorts of things that went on, not only around base, but out in the galaxy at large. Her wise brown eyes lingered on his. 

“Loud and clear. I know she trusts you. That’s why I called you over to help.”     

Keris nodded again, as if recognizing that, at least in this topic, they were still on the same page. “Just so you don’t go getting your hopes up and pushing her because of what I said. That was _my_ mistake, Captain.” 

While he was a bit relieved to see someone else as fiercely protective of the princess as he’d become recently, at the same time he was starting to get the feeling he was being chastised. That rankled him, particularly since he thought he’d been on his best behavior lately. 

“Look, I know you don’t know me from the next guy, but I’m not that kind of man. I prefer my women willing and perfectly aware of what they’re doing.” 

That judging look remained locked on him for another uncomfortable moment, then Keris seemed to relent at last. “Well, okay then. Now that we’ve gotten _that_ out of the way.” 

“Right.” Han glanced over the lieutenant’s head and back through the open door. 

Leia hadn’t moved. She was still curled up on her side with her back to them. He looked at her for a moment, trying to identify the unfamiliar emotion that stirred within him at the sight of her small, sockless feet. Her heavy drinking tonight was a niggling worry at the back of his mind. She’d downed a large quantity of that concoction in a hurry—and not for pleasure, it was clear, but for its power to knock her out. She’d been through hell on the _Death Star_ —he didn’t know the details, but he knew that much—and the occasion of her Majority Day would have been an especially painful milestone in the process of dealing with what had happened to her there. He recognized how difficult it must be for her to endure the passing of her first birthday since the obliteration of Alderaan and the loss of her family. Although he couldn’t blame her for wanting to escape from those thoughts and memories, he was concerned nevertheless. 

Han became aware of Keris’s thoughtful gaze on him. He dropped his eyes back to meet hers again. 

“I would never hurt her, Keris.” 

She returned his look, and he saw the moment when she made up her mind about him. She nodded and then gave him a genuine smile. 

“Yeah,” she said softly. “I can see that. Have a good night, Han.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Find it yet, Kid?” Han Solo’s voice floated up from the floor of the main supplies hall to the top of the access ladder where Luke Skywalker was currently balanced on a slender rung, rummaging through the rows of junk bins where random used parts were tossed. The Quartermaster on duty had given him and Han free access to any of the parts in this section of the supplies depot that they might find useful. What they needed was a hydro-splitter for the _Millennium Falcon_ ’s aging sublight fueling system, but the odds of finding exactly what Han was hoping for were slim. 

Considering the way his head was feeling this morning—as if a Tusken Raider were trying to batter its way out of his skull—probably the last place Luke belonged was climbing around several meters off the ground without a safety harness. He was pretty sure he was never touching a drop of that jungle jet juice again. 

Luke reached across with one arm to try and push aside the top layer of abandoned parts to expose something that looked promising. “I think I’ve found one….” he grunted, stretching across the stacked bins. “Or something that’ll do, anyway.” 

He glanced down at the distant duracrete floor to where Han stood waiting. The spacer was dressed in his usual garb, his blaster strapped to his thigh and his hands braced on his hips. It was hard to tell whether his Corellian friend was likewise suffering from any hangover—if so, he was hiding it well. If fact, he looked almost chipper this morning, which seemed utterly unfair. Luke grimaced. “You don’t mind that it’s painted bright pink, do you?” 

Han shrugged indifferently. “They’re all beautiful to me, Kid, as long as they work.” 

“This should do the job. Might have to refit it a little. Now, if I could just reach it.” Luke shifted his weight to one foot and ventured out to rest the toe of his other boot on the edge of a shelf. “Should’ve asked Chewie to do this.” 

“Can’t you just magic it over?” Han called up, a hint of amusement in his deep voice. “You know, wave your fingers at it and make it float to you, like you did Leia’s fork the other night?” 

The smuggler had made it clear on multiple occasions that he considered the Force to be an uncertain ally at best, if not actually pure superstitious nonsense, but both Han and Leia had been duly stunned by the shaky example of telekinesis Luke had managed. Chewbacca had been less amazed, having been around long enough to remember when Jedi knights were still a common presence in the galaxy, but he’d nevertheless hooted in approval of Luke’s development in that direction. 

Luke could have kicked himself, hearing Han’s suggestion. He _could_ have used the Force to grab the object and pull it towards him—if he’d thought about it. Why it hadn’t occurred to him to use it just now was a mystery, and an embarrassment. Trouble was, with the killer headache he was suffering, he wasn’t entirely sure he could muster the level of concentration required anyway. Instead, with a last check of his grip, he lunged just enough to grasp the piece in question, then triumphantly hauled it back. 

“I’ve got it.” 

“Good. While you’re up there, see if you can find a band limiter, too. Chewie just commed me to say he’s had to replace the one on the _Falcon_ , and we need another one to keep as a backup. They fail all the damn time.” 

“Okay, gimme a second…” 

“And look for an ion flux stabilizer while you’re at it.” 

Luke rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Maybe you’d like to climb up here and help?” he suggested. “And anyway, band limiters are easy enough to come by, but you’re not going to find a—” 

He broke off as the metal door of the supplies hall suddenly banged open, and a trio of uniformed Alliance personnel entered, raucously laughing and talking over one another. Looking down, Luke recognized Erno Razik, a young Y-wing gunner who was one of the influx of new recruits involved in rebuilding Gold Squadron, and Olly Kerger, a Socorran flight tech who’d been around since before Luke had joined the Alliance. The other man Luke knew by sight, although not by name, as a member of Gold’s ground crew. 

The three men were clearly in the middle of an amusing conversation, judging by their loud laughter and overlapping exclamations. Luke smiled at the cheerful sounds and continued to rummage around for the requested band limiter as the newcomers strode past the end of their aisle to the one adjacent. A gap in the shelving, and his high vantage point, gave him a clear view of the men as they came to a halt in front of another access ladder, but they hadn’t seemed to notice either him or Han as they’d passed. That observation was confirmed when Luke began to grasp the nature of their conversation. 

“All I’m saying is, she looks like she’d be a _real_ good time—as long as you could keep her drunk!” Razik made no attempt to keep his voice down, and it echoed throughout the spacious hall. 

The other men chuckled in apparent agreement as Razik turned and mounted two rungs up the ladder to begin rummaging through one of the boxes on a mid-level shelf. 

“Yeah, I think Solo had the same idea as you, Raz. Did you see how fast he scooped her up, once he saw she had a drink in her?” Luke saw Kerger shake his head. “Didn’t even hesitate, I’ll give him that.” 

“Well, to be fair, he’s been waiting around for _that_ little piece for a long time.” This comment came from the shorter of Razik’s two companions, the stocky man with copper-colored hair whom Luke had recognized as a member of ground crew. “Longer than _I_ would’ve waited, for sure.” 

Luke glanced down at Han, feeling the first stirrings of alarm as he realized exactly who the men were discussing. His Corellian friend had gone preternaturally still, his dark head fixed at an angle that showed he was listening in on the conversation, too. 

“Yeah, trying to see if he could bag a princess, no doubt,” said Razik. 

The red-haired man chuckled. “Who wouldn’t? I’d ‘bag’ her, given half a chance. I’ve never had a princess before.” 

“You’ve probably never had _a woman_ before, Trulo,” Kerger retorted and there was another chorus of hearty laughter, this time at Trulo’s expense. 

Seeing Han’s hand drop down to rest atop the grip of his blaster, Luke hastily shoved the hydro-splitter into a deep pocket, and started climbing down the ladder.

“Well, it looks to me like all that waiting around finally paid off. Last I saw, Solo was practically carrying her out of the barracks. He probably had her on his ship already by the time Rieekan showed up to shut the party down.”   

Luke realized too late that Han was already in motion, and he’d reached the end of the aisle in a few long strides before Luke was halfway down. Even as he braced his feet against the ladder’s rails to slide to the ground, Luke saw the spacer disappearing around the corner in the direction of the three men. 

“Han, wait!” He jumped the final distance to the floor and ran after his friend. 

“Yeah, I bet the Wookiee never had a princess either!” Razik was still crowing as Luke rounded the corner. The trio evidently found that comment to be funnier than anything else they’d said, because they were all still in mid-guffaw when they realized they had company. Their laughter choked off, and there was a sudden silence in the cavernous space. 

Razik was still two rungs up, hanging loosely off the ladder by one hand, angled halfway around to face his friends. Luke was just in time to witness the moment when the Alliance officer locked eyes on Solo. He blanched visibly and then tried a weak grin, lifting up a forestalling hand towards Han, as he continued to grip the ladder with the other. Han moved in a straight line, covering the distance between them in a few quick strides, as the other two men fell back a step in the face of the Corellian’s advance. 

“Hey, look, Solo, I didn’t mean any—” 

Reaching up, Han clamped two hands on the front of Razik’s khaki uniform shirt, hauled the smaller man off the ladder, then gave him a rough shove, sending him staggering. The Alliance officer cried out in angry protest and stumbled a few steps, trying to regain his balance. The instant he was upright, though, the Correllian stepped in, cocked an arm back and delivered a straight punch to the jaw that connected with an audible _crack_. Razik staggered backward again, then dropped to the ground, groaning. As Han advanced to stand over him, the man fell onto one elbow, reflexively shielding his face with his other arm. 

Luke moved swiftly around to stand nearer to the pair, but hesitated to intervene now that the blow had already been struck. In truth, he was as furious and disgusted as Han about what they’d overheard, and he didn’t mind seeing Razik humbled. In fact, he’d have liked to knock the other two men to the ground, too—they’d all taken part in the obscene exchange—but he thought better of it, considering the possible consequences. He kept a wary eye on Han, though, as well as on the two men still standing with their mouths hanging open. 

“Say something else about her,” Solo dared him in a low, dangerous voice, looming over Razik with his fists still at the ready. “Go on. Let’s hear it.” Han turned his head and fixed a cold gaze on Trulo and Kerger. The two men seemed too shocked by the sudden assault to react, but simply stared at him. “What about you two? Got any good _jokes_?” 

“Listen, Solo—” Kerger began, starting to show signs of anger as his surprise began to wear off. 

“No, _you_ listen.” Han took a step nearer to Kerger and Luke saw the Socorran stiffen his spine and raise his jaw in an attempt to disguise a flinch. Solo’s eyes pinned Kerger with absolute conviction. “If I ever hear another _word_ about her out of your filthy mouth, I’ll put a blaster bolt in it. Understand?” 

Razik growled and tried to stand, but Han took a menacing step in his direction and he subsided, glaring up at Solo in impotent fury. Han turned his attention back to Kerger and Trulo, and sneered, “That goes for all three of you. Keep your Sithin’ mouths shut.” 

“I don’t think so,” Razik replied from the floor, his voice sounding thick and strange. He was still propped up on one elbow, but was now tenderly cradling his swelling jaw. He lifted his chin, turned his head and spat a jet of frothy blood onto the duracrete floor, flinching in apparent pain as he did so. Looking back at Han, he sneered and spoke with difficulty around the distortion in his jaw. “Dodonna’s gonna hear about this, Solo, and your sorry Corellian ass will be out of a job.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Luke saw Han suddenly lower his arms, and roll his shoulders. One hand dropped down to the blaster rig on his thigh, and Luke heard the snap of the retaining strap popping loose. Realizing that the confrontation was escalating, Luke stepped in. 

“Han, we need to leave. _Now_.” Luke said, his tone brooking no argument. 

“I’m not done yet.” 

“Yes, you _are_. Let’s go.” Luke waited, watching his friend’s profile as Han continued to glare at the trio of men who were staring back. Luke could see the angry indecision on the smuggler’s face as he appeared to weigh up the merits and potential consequences of continuing. 

Luke stepped closer and lowered his voice so that only Han could hear him. “This won’t do you— _or Leia_ —any good.”   

Han finally dragged his eyes away from his adversaries to meet his friend’s gaze.  Luke could see some of the anger leaving Han’s face then, replaced by a new mix of emotions that rippled across his features as he absorbed those words. Luke thought he could see a heavy measure of frustration, tinged with regret. Han dropped his gaze, glanced again at the trio and abruptly turned his back, heading for the exit. He covered the distance in a few quick strides, and the metal door banged shut behind him. 

Luke turned back then to face the three men, and didn’t even attempt to hide his disgust. Olly Kerger, a man with whom Luke had previously been on friendly terms, ventured to speak. 

“Luke, listen, we were only joking around. We didn’t know you were there.” 

Luke fixed his gaze on Kerger’s face and shook his head in open disappointment. 

“Why should that matter? No one deserves to be talked about like that, Olly, least of all Princess Leia. You three were ‘only joking around’ about a woman who risked her life and lost her family—her entire home _planet,_ remember?— to bring us the plans to that _Death Star._ You’d all be _dead_ if it wasn’t for her. Maybe you should keep that in mind.” 

He let that sink in for a minute, scanning from one belligerent face to the other. When his gaze fell on Razik, still sitting on the floor, nursing his swelling jaw with a sullen look in his eye, another thought occurred to him. 

“There’s something else you should know. I’ll be speaking to Dodonna myself about what happened here today. Just in case you were thinking about what you plan to tell him.” 

As he turned away, he saw the trio exchanging glances and was gratified to see that they looked a little worried.


	4. Chapter 4

“Hold still, Captain. Don’t make me sedate you.” The Chalactan medical officer gave Han a grin that only slightly softened her threat. 

“You’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?” The corner of Han’s mouth lifted in a half-hearted smile that swiftly melted into a grimace of pain as Lieutenant Dreis gently probed his injured hand. 

“Getting to knock people out _is_ a rare perk of this job, I’ll admit,” the medic responded as she gently laid his hand back down in his lap. 

Luke, standing a short distance away on the other side of the cot from the medic, marveled at how his friend could be in such obvious pain, and yet still manage to joke with Dreis as she examined him. Han’s hand looked pretty bad, to Luke’s eye. The skin across the knuckles was bright red and there was a trickle of blood across the middle joint, where the skin had split with the force of his punch. His fingers were half-curled and seemed to be stiffening as the soft tissue between each knuckle swelled. The back of his hand was swelling, too, and was already nearly twice the size as the other. Han grimaced again at Dreis’s necessary manipulations before he deliberately looked away, meeting Luke’s eyes. 

Luke, for his part, was struggling not to let what the medic was doing upset the delicate balance he’d been maintaining with his stomach all morning. The fast jog he’d had to do to catch up with Solo had done his head no favors, either, particularly in the mid-morning Serricci heat. The spacer had already covered most of the distance between the Supplies Hall and the Medical Center before Luke could fall in beside him, and by that time Luke had been more concerned with keeping his breakfast down than with looking too closely at Han’s injury. 

He looked away from Han, and glanced around the small examination room. It was one of several such chambers to be found within the spacious medical center, which was also equipped with one large operating theater and a few smaller treatment rooms. The facilities were basic, still lacking even a standard Bacta station, never mind more sophisticated medical technologies. 

Dreis sat back on her stool and met Han’s gaze. “Yes, there’s at least one fracture in there.” She reached for a hypo-injector from a nearby medical tray and moved towards him. 

“Wait! What is that?” Han demanded, a sudden thread of wariness in his voice. 

The Chalactan rolled her dark eyes at him. “You’ve had this before, Captain. A couple of times, remember? It’s just a nerve blocker.” 

Han subsided with a silent nod, and she proceeded to administer the anesthetic shot to his deltoid muscle. The relief that swept across the spacer’s entire body was visible as he relaxed and leaned back to rest more comfortably against the raised head of his cot. 

“Hey, Lieutenant, you guys have anything for a headache?” Luke ventured, as the medic stood and turned to wash her hands at the small sink. 

The Rebel medical officer was probably twice Luke’s age, and the smile she sent him as she turned to face him was almost motherly. Almost. “I do, but there appears to be a run on it this morning. I’m considering charging credits for what’s left.” 

Luke frowned, not entirely sure if she was teasing. “I don’t have much with me…” 

“I’m kidding, Commander. I’ll grab something for you when I come back with the bone knitter.” With that, she left them alone in the small examination room. 

“We should talk,” Luke dared to risk raising the obvious subject, now that they had a moment alone and Han’s bad temper had subsided. 

“Save it, Kid,” Han responded tersely. “Razik had it coming.” 

“I’m not gonna lecture you,” Luke told him. “I was tempted to take a swing at one of them myself.” 

“Then that’d be two of us in the dock, Junior. Glad you stayed out of it.” Han drew a deep breath and expelled it forcefully. “ _I_ should’ve stayed out of it.” 

“Maybe. But those guys were completely out of line, Han. You were provoked.” 

“And you weren’t?” Han’s gaze was fixed ahead but Luke could see his scowl deepening. “No, I should’ve kept a cool head. But the only other thing that came to mind was to pull my blaster on ‘em. And _that_ wouldn’t have ended well either.” 

Lieutenant Dreis returned then, pushing a trolley with a box-like medical device on it. She was followed closely by Chewbacca, who had to duck his way through the doorway before straightening back up to his full height. He then growled what was clearly a question. 

At the beginning of their acquaintance, Luke had been mystified as to how the Corellian could understand a word of the Shyriiwook language, which had sounded completely unintelligible to his ears. Over the past few months, however, he’d begun to match some of Chewie’s more frequently used words and phrases to the underlying meaning that he could sense through the Force, as well as to the general context and the occasional translation offered by Han or Threepio. By that method, he was gradually acquiring a rudimentary understanding of the Wookiee’s language.   

“It’s nothing,” Han answered Chewbacca with a grumble, his noticeable change in attitude reminding Luke of a sullen teenager. “Just busted up my hand.” 

“He’ll be back to normal in a day or two,” Lieutenant Dreis reassured all of them as she went about the business of preparing the portable bone-knitting device. 

Chewbacca responded with a series of hoots that made Han scowl. 

“Nobody asked you, Wiseass.” 

Chewbacca growled some more and Han shook his head. “I’ll tell you later. Just go back and… I don’t know. Make sure the _Falcon_ ’s ready to take off.” 

Luke wasn’t the only one in the room who reacted to that comment, and he glanced at Han’s co-pilot as the Wookiee continued interrogating him. 

“Yeah, it could be. Like I said, you’ll hear all about it later. Just go back and get charged up, okay?” 

Chewbacca shook his head in clear refusal and then deliberately leaned against the nearest wall and crossed his long arms, a universal sign of not budging. 

“Alright, Captain,” Lieutenant Dreis chose that moment to intervene, rolling the cart closer to Han, studiously ignoring the content of their conversation. “If you could please place your hand inside this space….” 

Han followed directions as she guided his hand into the device, carefully secured his arm in place, then touched several controls that set the device into silent action. 

“Okay, you’ve probably been through this before, Captain. Just hold still and let this thing do its work. I’ll be back in thirty. Hit the call button there if you need anything. This place is suddenly _very_ popular. Oh, and here,” she paused as she turned to Luke and presented him with a small disposable vial. “This is for your head, Commander. Next time, I advise avoiding the local beverage. Stick to what you know.” 

Luke gave her a chagrined look as she passed the medicine over and then left the room. 

As soon as the door closed behind her, Chewbacca began addressing Han with a string of woofs and growls that Luke understood as a repetition of one of his earlier questions. 

“Fine. You want to know what happened? I just blew it. _That’s_ what happened. Right out the airlock,” Han burst out, clearly venting some real concern now that he’d calmed down enough to consider the consequences. “I lost my temper and punched an officer.” 

Chewbacca straightened up from the wall and cocked his head, his concern obvious in his reaction. He growled some more, and Luke narrowed his eyes, trying to concentrate on the meaning behind the Wookiee’s words. 

Han was shaking his head. “Yeah, well, if you’d heard what they were saying, he’d probably be missing an arm now, so spare me the sermon.” 

Chewbacca growled yet again, and Luke thought he recognized a familiar pattern that time, along with a general impression of Chewie’s meaning, gleaned through the Force. When Han didn’t answer immediately, Luke decided to venture a response. 

“That’s right, Chewie. They were talking about Leia.” 

Both Han and Chewbacca looked at Luke with expressions of surprise, then the Wookiee bared his teeth at Luke in the equivalent of an approving grin. He turned his wise blue eyes back to Han and woofed again in a softer tone. 

“It doesn’t matter now. I had a good thing going here, and then I let some loudmouthed Grazers get me riled up.” 

“It’s not so bad, Han,” Luke tried to offer some reassurance. “Don’t let what Razik said worry you. I’m sure it’ll be—” 

“I punched an _officer,_ Kid,” Han interjected. “I know what military outfits are like, and they’re not gonna let that go. Looks like we’ll be flyin’ outta here sooner than I thought. _Perfect_ timing.” His mouth twisted bitterly as he ground out the sarcastic words. 

“Only if Razik or one of the others actually reports it,” Luke reminded him. “They know they were in the wrong, too. They might keep quiet.” 

“Nah,” Han gestured dismissively with his free hand. “You know that prick is going to report it. He’s with the Alliance, and I’m not. It’ll be him and his pals that High Command will listen to, and they’re probably counting on that.” Han shook his head in irritation. “In fact, I’d be surprised if there aren’t a couple of uniforms waiting for me by the _Falcon_ already.” 

Chewbacca shook his russet head and rumbled out a string of hoots and growls that caused Han’s expression to darken. 

“Oh, that’s great.” Han rolled his eyes. 

“What? What did he say?” Luke hadn’t been able to understand a syllable of the Wookiee’s words that time. 

“That’s why Chewie’s here at the Medical Center. It’s _Rieekan_ who’s looking for me, though—not Dodonna. He sent two officers to escort me to his office when I’m done here. And that probably means Leia’s involved now.” 

Luke considered Han’s words, and recalled his earlier promise to Razik and his pals. “Look, Han. I’m going to speak to Rieekan myself, right now, before you see him. They’ll be looking for witnesses, so he’ll probably want to talk to me anyway.” 

Han looked his friend up and down for a moment, his expression a mix of gratitude and concern. “I appreciate it, Luke. Just be careful. Don’t want you caught up in this mess, either.” 

“I’m not worried. Like I said, Razik got what was coming to him, and the others were just as bad.” 

“Yeah, but what are you gonna do, repeat exactly what they said?” 

Luke hesitated as realization dawned and he lost some of his confidence. 

Han nodded, agreeing as he watched Luke’s expression change. “Exactly. So it’ll just be our word versus theirs, and I’m nobody.” 

“You’re not ‘nobody,’ Han. You contribute a lot to what we’re doing here, and you’re a hero, besides. People like you. Sure, you shoot your mouth off a bit…” Han rolled his eyes at that, just as Luke had anticipated he would. “But by now everybody knows where you stand where the Empire’s concerned, and you’re a great help to us.” 

“It ain’t a popularity contest, though, and I’m still just the hired help. Anyway, there’s nothing keeping me here.” 

Something in Han’s voice alarmed Luke. “You’re not thinking of taking off, are you?” 

_< < No. >>_ Chewbacca’s terse interjection was one of the first words Luke had learned to recognize. He glanced at the Wookiee and smiled. He hoped that Chewie’s preference would influence Han’s decision, if it came to that. 

“I may not have a choice,” Han countered as he scrubbed irritably at his jaw with his good hand, then slid it around to the back of his neck. He scowled down at the bone-knitter as it hummed and flashed over his injured hand. “And I’d rather jump before I’m pushed.” 

“What about Leia?” 

Luke noted the pained expression that flickered across his friend’s face as he dropped his hand down to his lap and gave a one-shouldered shrug. “What about her?” 

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about,” Luke admonished. 

Chewbacca chimed in with a short string of growls that seemed to support Luke’s comment. Again, Luke caught the phrase that the Wookiee seemed to use most when referring to Leia, instead of her given name—something that Luke understood as _little_ something-or-other. He wondered if Leia’s own grasp of Shyriiwook was good enough to catch that. She _was_ little, but she didn’t usually appreciate commentary on that fact. 

The Corellian still hadn’t responded to Luke, and he was studiously ignoring the Wookiee’s blue gaze. 

“Han?” 

Han’s features hardened, and he met Luke’s eyes with a glare. “We’re friends,” he said flatly. 

“Yeah, you’re friends,” Luke agreed. “But I know she means more to you than that, Han. You’re not doing as good a job at hiding it as you think you are.” 

He let that observation sink in for a moment, and noticed that Han didn’t deny it, but neither did he attempt to disguise his displeasure at having it pointed out. Although it manifested itself in a scowl and an irritated tone of voice, Luke sensed that Han’s dismay over the threat of being forced to leave had more to do with the Alderaanian princess than he’d admitted even to himself. 

Luke had gained a little experience in matters of the heart since leaving Tatooine, so he wasn’t a complete innocent. As a consequence, he recognized that his two closest friends were growing increasingly attached to one another, in a way that differed significantly from his own attachment to either one of them. He wondered now, though, if they’d actually discussed any of that with each other. The look on Han’s face indicated that the answer was probably _no_. He saw his chance to give the Corellian a reassuring nudge in that direction, as well as an incentive to stay.  

“For what it’s worth, I know that Leia cares about you, too. There are very few people in her life that she really trusts nowadays, but you’re one of them. And if you leave now, you’ll hurt her. You know that.” 

That comment seemed to hit home, and Luke could see the flicker of real pain in his friend’s eyes as he finally looked up. His words, however, sounded as jaded as ever. “Yeah, well. I guess we all have to get used to disappointment.” 

Chewbacca erupted in a vociferous declaration that plainly communicated some exasperation with his friend’s cynical response. Turning to Luke, the Wookiee then spoke more slowly, carefully enunciating his words. 

_< < Hard head. >>_ For emphasis, Chewie knocked a furred fist against his own skull. 

Luke grinned. “Yeah. No doubt about it.” 

Han rolled his eyes. “Oh, great. The last thing I need is you two... _conversing_!” 

Luke sobered again and regarded his friend for a moment. “Just promise me you won’t do anything rash. Wait to see what Command says about it. Military protocols work both ways, and those guys violated lots of them, which I plan to lay out for Rieekan when I leave here. And Leia may not have an official rank, but she has a lot of pull, especially with Rieekan. I know she’ll fight for you to stay, and so will I.” 

Han’s expression flickered, and Luke had the sense that his words had affected the Corellian more deeply than he let on. The return of the scowl, though, told him that Han was slightly uncomfortable with such sentiment. Nevertheless, he seemed to consider Luke’s request before finally giving a reluctant nod. 

“Alright, Luke. It’s worth a shot. I’ll go see Rieekan right after I leave here.” 

_< < Good work, arwf ahraroww >>_ Chewbacca bared his fangs at Luke in what he recognized as a Wookiee equivalent of a grin. 

Luke grinned back, ignoring Han’s exasperated eyeroll. As he turned to leave, curiosity prompted Luke to ask for a translation of the last part of Chewbacca’s comment that he hadn’t quite understood. “What is it you call me, Chewie, when you don’t use my name?” 

Chewbacca rattled out an unintelligible explanation, and Luke realized too late the futility of asking that particular sort of question of the source itself. He looked to Han for help. 

The Corellian sighed and shook his head, but Luke could see a little smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. 

“Well, Kid, we’re all _little_ or _young_ as far as Chewie’s concerned, and there’s a word in Shyriiwook that sorta means both, so he uses that one for almost everyone he likes. Don’t be offended.” 

“Yeah, I recognize that one. He calls Leia ‘little’—.” 

“‘Little Princess’, yeah. And he has high hopes for you, Kid,” Han said, raising both eyebrows in a dubious expression. “ _You_ he calls, ‘ _Young Jedi’._ ”


	5. Chapter 5

There was little doubt in Leia’s mind that this was turning into one of the worst days she’d endured since arriving on Serricci. It wasn’t enough that she’d overslept, that she had only the vaguest recollection of what had happened the night before, that her head was splitting, or that the mere odor of breakfast this morning had been enough to send her running to the nearest public fresher. No, the icing on the top of this spice cake of a day was that she’d been summoned to the office of General Carlist Rieekan to assist in his investigation of a violent incident that reportedly involved two of Leia’s closest friends. Although Rieekan was a dear personal friend—and a fellow Alderaani—he was also the soon-to-be Commander of the entire base on Serricci, having been ferried to the planet almost a month before aboard the _Millennium Falcon_. And, even more worryingly, the Corellian owner of that ship was apparently the chief instigator in the altercation now under examination. 

At the moment all Leia wanted to do was crawl all the way back to her quarters, climb into her cot and hope for a quick death, but instead she sat in a spare chair to the side of the general’s desk, staring into the dregs of her mug of kaffe while they waited for Han Solo to arrive. Rieekan’s emissaries had reportedly located him in the Medical Center, undergoing treatment for an injury. 

Leia had learned on arrival that Rieekan had already taken depositions from four other men involved in the incident, including Luke Skywalker, and that his meeting with Solo would be the final interview of the day. Leia had been summoned to attend because the Corellian was not an official member of the Alliance, but a contracted employee, and Leia had been the one responsible for employing his services in the first place. She’d also continually offered him and Chewbacca short-term contracts of work with the Alliance in the five months since the Battle of Yavin, and the outcome of the investigation today would have direct bearing on their future employment. 

As she’d reviewed the notes from the earlier interviews, the queasiness Leia had already been feeling began to grow. The details of the confrontation were hardly details at all, and she sensed that something important was being omitted. Although all four testimonies were in general agreement—that Luke and Han had overheard a conversation that had incensed the Corellian to the point of violence—it seemed that every one of the men interviewed so far had been reluctant to describe exactly what that conversation had entailed. Whatever it was, it seemed clear to Leia that her friends had been provoked by it, that Han had reacted in a most violent manner, and that Luke had intervened to prevent an escalation of the confrontation. She’d been particularly alarmed to read in his testimony that the normally easygoing Luke had gone on record saying he’d been tempted to join in the violence himself, and that he felt Han’s actions—although not to be condoned or repeated—were understandable. 

Leia frowned into her empty mug as she tried to imagine what the other three men could possibly have been discussing that would have provoked Han— _and_ Luke—to such extreme anger. She racked her brain for some link between the two friends, something they had in common that they both cared about deeply enough to stir such emotions.  Although she liked to think that she was gradually getting to know both men fairly well through their frequent interactions—both professional and personal—the truth was that she knew almost nothing about Solo, beyond their shared experiences and what little she’d been able to glean from hacked Imperial records. He’d been far more reticent than Luke in spilling details about his youth or recent past, so Leia could gain no insight into what could have caused him to lose his temper so spectacularly. She imagined that the nature of the provocation must have been personal if it had prompted Han to attack a member of the Alliance, but he’d never seemed to her like the type to care much about what others thought—or said—about him. 

The silence that had settled over the office as Leia mused over the incident and Rieekan contemplated his notes was broken by a sudden chime at the door. 

“Enter,” Rieekan called out, and Leia dragged her gaze up from her mug to watch as the door was opened by one of the uniformed troopers assigned to security. 

“Captain Solo is here now, sir,” the officer stated. 

“Very well, send him in.” 

Leia watched as the familiar form of the Corellian appeared in the doorway, and she swiftly assessed the fact that his right arm was in a sling and that his blaster was still secured in its holster. She felt some relief to see that his injuries appeared minor, and the very fact he had not been disarmed meant that things had not totally disintegrated, as she’d feared. 

For Han’s part, his eyes went to Leia first and there was a flash of surprise and then what she read to be dismay on his face, before his expression settled into a frown of frustration. He continued to scan the rest of the small room before his gaze settled on the older man seated behind the desk. 

“General,” Han intoned with what Leia recognized as a proper level of respect. 

“Have a seat, Captain,” Rieekan said as he pointed to the empty chair positioned squarely in front of his desk. 

Han settled into the chair, and his eyes once again found Leia’s, however briefly, before tearing away to stare at some distant spot on the wall as they waited for the general to begin the inquest. 

She felt a touch of relief to see that Han appreciated the seriousness of the situation. He was never the most reverent person, and clearly he had some issues with authority—at least, with certain members of High Command who rubbed him the wrong way. He also tended to bristle easily under criticism, so Leia was glad that he appeared to be willing to submit to their official investigation of the incident, instead of telling them where to shove their questions. 

“Thank you for attending promptly, Captain Solo,” Rieekan said in a formal tone. “It’s been brought to our attention that you were involved in an altercation of some sort this morning, and General Dodonna has asked me to investigate. I’m sure you understand that we are required to look into such matters and to take measures to resolve them.” 

“I understand, sir.” 

The flicker of Han’s eyes back to Leia made it clear to her that he found her presence distracting, and Rieekan seemed to notice Han’s discomfort, too. 

“I’ve asked Princess Leia to join me because, in addition to her other duties, she’s in charge of requisitions and supplies, and for the past five months she’s been the person responsible for continually employing you and your First Mate in the service of the Alliance. As such, she is your supervisor here, and she has an immediate interest in the proceedings and the outcome of the investigation.”   

Han nodded his acceptance of those facts, although his body language continued to signal his unease. Leia studied him, scowling past the thumping pain in her head and wishing she’d thought to refill her kaffe cup before the inquest had commenced. She hoped it would be over soon, anyway, and tried to re-focus her attention on what the general was saying. 

“I understand that you visited the Medical Center before coming here.” Rieekan gave a pointed look at the sling holding Han’s arm in place. 

“Yes, sir. Nothing serious. Fractured a couple of bones in my hand.” 

Rieekan nodded. “I see. And is your injury a result of the alleged altercation this morning?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Although Han’s expression remained carefully neutral, his body language calm and composed, Leia could see his throat move as he swallowed, and something else—some sixth sense—told her that he was uncharacteristically nervous. 

She wondered if her presence was the cause of his agitation, or if it had more to do with the nature of his relationship with General Rieekan. Han and Chewie had been the ones she’d dispatched to transport Rieekan from another Alliance cell on the Mid Rim planet of Falleen to their base here on Serricci, and they had consequently spent several days in each other’s company aboard the _Millennium Falcon_. The general had afterwards commented about that trip on more than one occasion. In a development that intrigued Leia, it appeared that Han had made quite a positive impression on the Alderaani officer. Whatever it was they’d discussed, it was clear that Rieekan had formed a high opinion of the Corellian smuggler. Perhaps Han was embarrassed now to be brought before Rieekan to answer for his behavior. 

After an extended silence, Rieekan gave a tired sigh. “Why don’t you just tell me what happened?” 

“Yes, sir.” Han’s features hardened as he seemed to resign himself to explain what Leia sensed he’d have preferred to bury. Drawing a deep breath, he began to give his account. “I was in the Supplies Center with Luke—Commander Skywalker—at around oh-eight-thirty, and I overheard Commander Razik and his friends making some jokes.” He winced and then made a point of clarifying. “Obscene talk, General. What you folks would classify as ‘conduct unbecoming of an officer’.” 

“And what about your own conduct?” 

“I’m no officer.” Han’s sharp retort was knee-jerk, and more typical of his flippant nature, but he clearly realized his slip because he shifted uncomfortably in his chair and amended, “But yes, my own conduct was out of line, too, General. I accept that.” 

“Tell me more about what you heard Razik and his friends talking about that made you angry enough to throw a punch. I’m assuming you threw the first punch?” 

“I threw the only punch, sir.” 

“And the reason for that was…?” 

“I didn’t like what any of them were saying, but Razik was the one running his mouth when I rounded the corner, so he’s the one I shut down. That’s all there was to it.” 

Rieekan waited for a few moments, but when Han offered nothing more, the older man sat back in his chair and laced his hands together in his lap. A glance at his profile showed Leia that he was beginning to lose patience with the sparse accounts he’d received so far, and the Corellian, as the instigator of the confrontation, was going to be the one to tell him what he wanted to know. 

“We’re at war, Captain, as you well know, and this is a military base,” Rieekan said. “As such, we must maintain order within our own ranks, or else make ourselves even more vulnerable to the enemy. We’re a bit more relaxed than the Imperial Navy, perhaps, but I’m sure you understand that discipline is nevertheless an absolute requirement of this operation.” 

Han gave a curt nod, his expression stony and unreadable, but Leia sensed that he was more troubled by Rieekan’s comments than he was letting on. 

Rieekan continued to address Han, his voice taking on a sharper edge. “We cannot have our personnel—commissioned or otherwise—at war with each other. Anyone disrupting the peace or engaging in violence, as you have done, is at risk of censure. If you were commissioned, Captain, you’d be in line for a formal reprimand, at the very least. But you’re _not_ commissioned. You’re only working for us on a series of verbal contracts, and those contracts may be terminated at any time.” 

Leia watched Han carefully. There was no mistaking the tension in his body or the grim tightening of his expression as Rieekan laid out those facts. Even through the blur of her blinding headache, she was perplexed by Han’s reaction. Scarcely five days in a row could pass without him mentioning at least once his intention to leave the service of the Alliance “soon”, and yet he appeared to be unhappy with the prospect of being released from his contract. Leia stared at his solemn profile and frowned. 

 _Will you make up your mind, Solo? What_ do _you want?_  

Han continued to give Rieekan his full attention, studiously avoiding Leia’s gaze. The general came to his final point. 

“In order to make a judgement on this matter, Captain Solo, I must get to the bottom of whatever happened between you and Commander Razik this morning. To accomplish that, I must have the details. Commander Razik admits that he was joking around with his friends, but he claims that your assault on him was unwarranted. And from what he and his companions have described to me, I would be inclined to agree with him.” 

The general’s words lingered uncomfortably in the air, and Leia found herself silently willing the laconic Corellian to stop being so cagey, and just come out with it already. 

“On the other hand,” Rieekan continued, “Commander Skywalker tells me that you _were_ provoked but, like you, he’s been rather too vague about the precise nature of that provocation. Now, are you willing to give those details to me, or would you prefer to be released from service? I warn you now that if you choose the latter, you will be asked to depart Serricci immediately, and you will not be re-employed by the Alliance.” 

Leia’s stomach churned at those words and for a moment she had the distressing sensation that she was going to be sick. Despite a hot shower and an especially thorough cleansing of her teeth this morning, she thought she could still detect the sweet odor of the jet juice she’d overindulged in the night before, as if it were seeping from her pores. She battled the sensation and suppressed the nausea through sheer force of will. 

 _Never again,_ she promised herself. _Never, ever again._  

She looked at Han, waiting for him to answer Rieekan and hoping that he would just get it over with so they could bring this session to an end. As she watched him, though, she saw his hazel eyes flicker to her once again, and something in his glance set off a faint alarm in the back of her clouded mind. Earlier, she’d been trying to think of a link between Han and Luke, something they had in common, something they both cared about enough to fight over. Her stomach plunged as the realization hit her. 

_It’s me._

Rieekan seemed to read Solo’s glance at the same time Leia did. He turned his head to fix her with a speculative gaze. “Your Highness? Do _you_ have information about this incident that I should know at this point?” 

Leia was too startled—and too hungover—to respond promptly. To her consternation, she realized she was gaping, and promptly clamped her lips together, drawing a deep breath through her nose. She looked at Han, who was now resolutely staring straight ahead, avoiding her gaze. After a moment, she shook her head and spoke through stiff lips. “No, sir. I don’t.” 

To Leia’s dismay, Rieekan then turned back to Han and persisted in his line of questioning. “Captain, does this have something to do with the princess? Did you and Razik argue over—” 

“There was no argument,” Han interjected sharply, steadfastly ignoring the glare Leia flashed in his direction. “I didn’t _chat_ with him about it, General. I just knocked him down.” 

“And knocked out a tooth,” Rieekan added, tapping the notes displayed on his datapad. 

Han seemed to struggle for a moment to keep his expression neutral. “That’s right. And then I threatened him.” 

“And what about his companions?” 

“I threatened them, too.” Despite the evenness of his tone, there was a belligerent curl to Han’s lip that made Leia wince. 

Even though the motion only intensified her pain, she found herself shaking her head, wishing a thousand things at once—that she’d stayed in bed, that she’d never touched a drop of alcohol, and that she’d stuck to her resolution from two nights ago to keep her distance from Han Solo. She had a very bad feeling about the direction this interview was taking. And Rieekan was relentless. 

“And you threatened them because they were making inappropriate jokes...about Princess Leia?” 

Leia closed her eyes for a moment, wishing heartily that Rieekan weren’t so perceptive. When she opened them again, she looked at Han and saw the effort it was taking him to remain composed. He was practically squirming in his chair. Finally, he dipped his head in a brief nod. “Yes.” 

Leia’s stomach was in knots now. The fact that Han had thrown a punch in defense of her honor was simultaneously ludicrous and embarrassing, and—if she were being completely honest—faintly gratifying. She’d never imagined him as the chivalrous type, and the idea that he would feel strongly enough about an insult to her character to defend her in such a way gave her an unexpected spark of pleasure. But at the same time, she felt outraged at being the object of such a testosterone-fueled scrap, and furious to have the whole sordid mess laid out in front of General Rieekan, a man whose respect she valued highly. She was also mortified at another possibility that had just occurred to her—that her own behavior might have contributed to this situation somehow. The confusion of emotions overwhelmed her and she lowered her head, staring fixedly at the datapad in her lap. 

_Oh, Goddess. What exactly happened last night? Did I do something to make the gossip worse?_

She had a vague recollection of the raucous party, of trying to talk to Keris and others over the loud music, and of gulping down far too much of the sweet alcohol mixture—but the rest was a blur. Inwardly, she acknowledged that she’d been trying to numb the pain of the occasion, to forget about Alderaan and her family, to erase for a while the knowledge that she was completely alone in the galaxy and permanently homeless. But it seemed the booze had managed to erase more than that. She felt a flutter of panic at not being able to remember how she’d reached her bunk room, and resolved all over again to avoid alcoholic beverages for the rest of her natural life. 

Rieekan was studying her openly now and Leia found that she was the one now squirming under his scrutiny. But there was nothing more she could add, no insight she could offer. Not with her memories lost in an alcoholic fog. And she didn’t want to know what had been said about her by Razik and his friends, so she was deeply grateful when Rieekan turned to Han and spoke again. 

“I see.” The general drew a deep breath. “Well, I won’t ask you for further details of the jokes you overheard, Captain. However, I do want to know the nature of the threats you made.” 

Han drew a deep breath, rolled his shoulders and shifted in his chair, seeming relieved to hear Rieekan’s words. “I warned them to stop.”

“Or else?” 

“Or else I’d blast ‘em.” 

“You threatened to kill them?” 

“I was—,” Han paused, cast another glance at Leia, and grimaced. “I was very angry, General. I wouldn’t have actually carried out that threat.” 

“I would hope not. And Commander Skywalker. What was his role in this incident?” 

“He intervened. He advised me to step away, which I did immediately. I didn’t witness what happened between Luke and the others after I left. I only know what he told me in the Medical Center afterwards.” Han drew an audible breath, then blew it out, and Leia saw his shoulders drop as he seemed to relax, albeit only marginally. 

Rieekan nodded, evidently satisfied with the Corellian’s account and how it concurred with what he’d heard from the others. “Thank you, Captain. I think I have enough information now to make a decision. Please wait outside for a moment, if you will. Just until we’ve had a chance to discuss the way forward.” 

Leia watched as Han gave a curt nod, then unfolded himself from his chair and stood, his posture almost—but not quite—in an attitude of military attention. He threw one last glance at her, and then palmed open the door and stepped out.   

As the door slid shut behind him, Leia sank back into her chair, feeling drained and utterly depressed. When she’d finally dragged herself out of bed this morning, she’d been relieved to know that her Majority Day was behind her, that she’d passed that milestone without succumbing completely to the grief and profound loneliness she felt at having no one left of her family to mark it. She’d been determined to put a brave face on it, to commemorate Luke’s birthday without thinking about her own. After all, he was in much the same position as she was; the Empire had destroyed the last of his family, too. 

And she _had_ felt somewhat comforted by the presence of her friends, even if Han and Keris were the only ones aware of the significance of the day. But the boisterous celebration had only served to deepen her misery, and now she was forced to recognize that her over-indulgence had been a feeble and ineffective way of coping with those emotions. Furthermore, some niggling feeling told her that her unwise drinking had contributed to their current situation, too. 

As she pondered over that possibility, a faint memory from the evening before stirred within her mind. She recalled fetching another cup of the jungle juice, then looking around to find that she was alone in the crowd, Keris having disappeared from her former place. Without an anchor, Leia had drifted straight to Han, whose shifting position around the room she’d been tracking all evening. She remembered his smile, and his rumbling voice as he’d quietly wished her a happy birthday. After that… who knew? 

 _What did we talk about? What did we_ do _?_  

It was no use. The rest of the evening was a blur. The next thing she recalled was waking up in her bunk in the early hours of the morning, stumbling to the fresher and then back into bed. The knowledge of how far her self-control had slipped made her feel even queasier. 

“Princess….” 

When Rieekan spoke, Leia jumped. She’d been so lost in reverie, she’d almost forgotten where she was. She straightened up in her chair and shifted to face him, struggling mightily to keep her thoughts from showing. 

The general’s careworn face had softened from the stern leader into a more kindly expression, and she could see compassion in his blue eyes. Carlist was Alderaani and he’d lost his own family when their planet had been destroyed. He was also an old friend of her father’s, and had known Leia since she was a child, so it was only natural that the two of them had grown even closer in the aftermath of their shared loss. And his expression now was more like that of a father addressing his daughter, than a general addressing a subordinate. Still, without knowing exactly why, Leia felt miserably responsible for the altercation between Han and the other men this morning, and she wanted nothing more than to flee Rieekan’s office and escape his scrutiny. 

“What happened last night?” But before she could answer, he held up a hand. “I know about the party. I mean—were you there?” 

Leia nodded once, feeling a hot flush creeping up her throat. “Yes, General. I’m afraid so. I’m—. I’m sorry.” 

Rieekan offered a gentle smile. “There’s no need to apologize, Your Highness. Every good commander knows when to look the other way and let the troops vent off a little steam.” 

“I’m afraid there’s more. Although the idea for the party wasn’t mine, I did authorize access to what alcohol we had in Supplies. I had no idea there was so much _unauthorized_ alcohol on base, however.”   

Rieekan didn’t look nearly as shocked as Leia had expected; in fact, he didn’t look surprised at all. Instead, he smiled. “Soldiers will be soldiers. There was no harm done, Princess.” 

Leia met his gaze again and gestured to indicate their current circumstances. “Some harm was done to Erno Razik, apparently.” 

Rieekan’s sandy eyebrow quirked up at that. “So you think the two incidents are linked, then? Last night’s party, and Captain Solo’s attack on Razik this morning?” 

Too late, Leia realized that her own comment had suggested that connection. 

“I—I’m not sure. I had...a bit too much to drink myself.” The confession made her blush. “I don’t remember exactly what happened last night.”   

Rieekan’s expression of curiosity changed to one of deep concern and he paused for a long moment as he studied Leia’s face. She realized a moment later that he was probably jumping to the wrong conclusion and quickly stopped him with a raise of her hand. “I’m fine. Aside from feeling like my head is about to go supernova, that is.” 

He cleared his throat, and gave her a gentle smile. 

“I’m fully aware that yesterday was your Majority Day, Leia.” 

His use of her first name made her blink against the sudden sting of tears and she pressed her lips together firmly to quell the emotion. This day just kept getting worse as it wore on, and it wasn’t even noon yet. She drew a breath to respond, but Rieekan was still speaking. 

“Was that the reason for the party? Did your friends—” 

“No.” Leia hadn’t meant for the denial to sound so sharp. She offered a tight smile. “Actually, it was also Commander Skywalker’s birthday, as it happens. His Majority Day, too.” 

Rieekan expression was puzzled. “That’s a strange coincidence….” 

“Yes, it is. But he doesn’t know. I didn’t tell him.” 

“Any particular reason for that?” 

“I— I don’t know. I suppose I didn’t want to detract from his day….” Even Leia could hear that her voice lacked conviction. 

Rieekan digested that in silence for a moment, studying her face. “You know, there’s nothing wrong with having fun, Leia,” he said at last. “You deserve to enjoy yourself sometimes.”

“We’re at war, Carlist. We shouldn’t have—” 

Rieekan held up a forestalling hand. “Yes, we’re at war. And we require discipline on base to maintain our readiness. No one is forgetting that, and no one doubts your commitment. But you’re young and this war has already taken so much from you. Don’t be so eager to give away what you have left. Trust me, Princess, you still need a life in spite of all this. You need good things to hang onto, to keep you going. Friends. Fun. Good times. Otherwise, what’s the point?” 

“I have friends…” 

“Yes, it’s very apparent that you do. And perhaps there will be someone special in your life someday, too. These people who surround you, the people who love you, they’re the ones who’ll keep you safe—and keep you sane.” 

It was rare when Leia found herself without words, without any sort of response that could explain the mixture of emotions and thoughts his words stirred up. Although the man hadn’t come right out and said it, her instincts told her this conversation had circled back to one friend in particular. A moment later Rieekan proved her right. 

“I don’t know Solo that well yet, but what I do know of him, I like. And obviously he is willing to defend you, even in your absence. That’s a worthy quality.” 

“Yes. Well…,” she hedged, not comfortable with the turn the conversation was taking. She couldn’t tell whether they were talking about Solo’s qualities as a friend and ally, or if Rieekan was hinting at something more. “He has his good qualities, that true. But as he’s so fond of reminding us all, he does have other obligations and doesn’t intend to join us permanently.” 

Rieekan nodded his head. While he appeared to be agreeing with her, the way he was studying her at that moment made it clear he was thinking of other things. “And your opinion on Solo’s involvement in this incident with Razik?” 

Leia took a moment to gather her thoughts, choosing her words carefully. “There are very few people who can irritate me more than Captain Solo. In fact, I’m pretty sure he does it on purpose. And while he can be hot-tempered and deliberately provocative at times, I’ve never known him to be unnecessarily violent. The fact that he took a swing at Razik over comments that were made about me…” Her voice trailed off. She wasn’t sure she wanted to take that line of discussion any further. She sighed. “Well, I don’t know what to make of that. And I certainly don’t want to know what was said. But my intuition—and what I know about Han so far—tells me that he probably had good cause.” 

Rieekan nodded thoughtfully, still listening, but making notes in his datapad as she spoke. 

“The truth is he’s a real asset, Carlist. He and Chewie both. Their...unique connections have already garnered some valuable information for us, as you know. And that ship of his may look like a pile of junk, but it’s fast and it’s heavily modified to do exactly the sort of work we need done. There’s no question that he hates the Empire. He’d never betray us. I’m confident of that. Plus, he’s brave enough to take on some of the riskier missions. And he hasn’t failed us yet.” 

“That’s true,” Rieekan agreed, keeping his eyes cast down on his datapad. “Anything else?” 

“Well, Razik and his friends are obviously exceptions now, but he’s generally well-liked around here, and he’s a natural leader. And as much as he talks about making money, he routinely volunteers to help out around base, especially with the X-wings. But I’ve seen him mucking in with jungle clearing, too. On supply runs, he’s resourceful. He keeps his eyes open out there for things he knows we need, or would appreciate. He’s a good negotiator. And he’s smart. He knows more than he lets on.” 

“About what?” 

“Well, everything. He likes to brag about his piloting skills but for some reason he keeps his expertise in other areas to himself. When, actually, his knowledge is wide-ranging and fairly comprehensive on a lot of things.” 

“In other words, you like him.”   

Too late, Leia realized how long she’d been talking, and how freely she’d been praising the Corellian smuggler. She felt a flush rising in her cheeks, which only deepened when she caught the sparkle in Rieekan’s blue eyes as he looked up. In answer to his comment, she simply pressed her lips together and nodded. 

“That’s some testimony, Your Highness.” The general pondered his notes for a moment, then drew a deep breath as he seemed to reach his own conclusions. He rose from his chair, walked around the corner of his desk and over to open the door. “Captain Solo, if you could please rejoin us.” 

“Yes, sir.” Solo stepped back inside the office and the door slid closed behind him. His eyes sought Leia’s briefly yet again, as if trying to determine from her what the verdict might be. 

Leia watched with interest as he then straightened into an unmistakable posture of attention and turned to face the general, who had not resumed his seat but instead remained standing beside his desk. 

“Captain Solo, I don’t need to reiterate to you the importance of maintaining discipline on a military base in time of war. Actions such as yours this morning, whether warranted or not, unnecessarily jeopardize the stability of this operation, and such behaviour cannot be tolerated.” 

Leia’s stomach flipped at hearing Rieekan’s words. She’d thought the general was leaning towards handing Han a reprimand, at worst, but now it sounded as if he were going in another direction. 

“On the other hand, you and your First Mate are important members of our team, even if you are not officially members of the Alliance. Your skills, your resourcefulness, and your willingness to undertake missions of a highly dangerous nature are of great value to us all. And, furthermore, we trust you.” 

Leia breathed out a sigh of relief. Watching Han’s face, she thought she detected a slight change in his color, although he maintained an impassive expression as he listened to Rieekan’s pronouncement. 

“I have decided, therefore, to resolve this incident with an official warning. The incident will be formally recorded, and it will be noted that you have received this warning from me today. Any future such actions on your part will result in the termination of your contract, and ejection from this base. Is that clear?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Very good. You’re dismissed, Captain.” 

“Sir.” 

Leia could have sworn that Han visibly arrested an automatic heel click and bow, the sort of action she’d witnessed in countless other military interactions. It was only a faint impression, and such a gesture would have been completely out of character for the irreverent spacer Leia had come to know, but before she could dwell further on it, the Corellian had turned and exited the office. 

-:¦:--:¦:--:¦:- 

As she left Rieekan’s office and stepped out into the main hallway of the Command Center, Leia felt a flood of relief at having averted an unanticipated crisis, which was dampened only by the fact that her headache was still going full-force. The good thing was that Rieekan had readily identified the symptoms of a bad hangover, and had gently suggested that she take the rest of the day off to recuperate. Despite the nagging of her conscience urging her back to her duties, Leia hadn’t even bothered to argue. She could think of nothing more appealing than climbing back into her bunk and trying to forget about everything. 

Weaving her way through the bustling Command Center, she headed down the corridor towards the side exit that led to the Officer’s Quarters next door. As she stepped outside, the bright mid-day sun blinded her and sent a stab of pain into the back of her brain. It made her pause and squint, then her eyes focused and she found Han leaning against the wall of the nearby barracks, clearly loitering by the entrance in hopes of intercepting her. 

_Great._

As soon as he spotted her, he pushed away from the wall and straightened up, stiffly rolling the shoulder above the arm that was cradled in a sling. He looked tired, she realized as she drew near—more so than he’d let on during the inquiry—and she was reminded that hers wasn’t the only day not going according to plan. Habit and a new self-consciousness made her glance around to look for curious bystanders, but for now they were alone. They were standing in the broad alley that had been cleared between the two structures, mid-way between the side entrances of both. It struck Leia that Han’s presence in this particular spot meant he’d anticipated her return to barracks, rather than a return to her workstation. Determined not to give him the opportunity to open with a smart comment, she pre-empted things by gesturing as she asked, “How’s your arm?” 

“My arm? My arm’s fine. My hand hurts like hell, though.” He gave her a lopsided smile. 

Leia winced. “Sorry, I knew that. My head is killing me.” 

“Yeah. I can imagine. It was a pretty good night.” 

Leia blinked and raised a hand to shield her eyes from the sun so she could focus on his face. “Was it?” 

“Wasn’t it?” Han countered, raising his eyebrows in what looked like genuine surprise, then gave a little shrug and a smirk. “ _I_ thought so.”   

Leia was flummoxed by that enigmatic comment, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to pursue it any further. She eyed him warily, squinting against the glare. “I don’t know what kind of night it was. My head hurts.” 

Han laughed softly and dropped his gaze, seeming to ponder something on the packed-dirt ground beneath their booted feet. After a moment, he lifted his eyes back to hers and there was an awkward pause, as he clearly struggled over what he wanted to say. Leia stared at him, attempting to guess at why he’d waited for her here, and where he was planning to take this meandering conversation. She was also trying her best not to be distracted by the way the sun caught his hazel eyes and turned them a clear, deep green. Or how the white of his teeth contrasted with the light bronze of his suntanned skin, now covered in a faint sheen of perspiration. A warm breeze gusted through the alley, ruffling their clothes and hair, and providing a brief respite from the relentless heat. Leia dragged her eyes back up to meet Han’s, and opened her mouth to speak, but Han spoke first. 

“Look, I just wanted to thank you,” he interjected, his tone light. 

Leia tilted her head at that, and searched his face. “For what? It sounds like I should thank _you_.” 

Han gave a single nod in acknowledgement, clearly not comfortable with the morning’s events being discussed again but perhaps encouraged by her response. “Obviously, I wasn’t thinking. And it nearly cost me everything. But he deserved it.” 

“Do I want to know—?” 

“No.” 

Leia hesitated, feeling a twist of something like anxiety in her gut as she tried to put her own thoughts into words. “Listen, Han. I—I don’t know what I did to attract those kinds of comments, but if my behavior last night was out of line—.” 

“It wasn’t.” The vehemence of Han’s response made Leia blink. His jaw took on a hard line and she could see the conviction in his eyes. “You did nothing. They’re just a bunch of _chulaks_ who were running their mouths. People like to gossip, and you’re kinda famous. That’s all it was.” 

“Yes, well. About that.” Leia paused and tried to think how to approach the subject. “Keris tells me that people are talking….” 

“So let ‘em talk.” 

It didn’t escape Leia’s notice that Han hadn’t even asked what she meant. He already knew. 

“But there’s nothing to talk _about_ ,” she pointed out. 

“Isn’t there?” 

He looked at her and the silence stretched between them as Leia tried to come up with a response. Her head was thumping and she could feel a trickle of sweat making its way down the indentation of her spine. She wasn’t even sure what they were discussing anymore. Before she could speak again, Han made an impatient gesture and turned almost as if to go. Then he turned back. 

“Look, I just figured you must have said something to Rieekan in my favor in there, and I wanted to say thanks. I’m glad I didn’t get kicked out.” 

Leia tipped her head, focusing a bit more intensely on him. For a man who never missed a chance to remind her that he had no intention of sticking around, he sounded very grateful to be kept on. It wasn’t just the bright sunlight that made her squint up at him now as she saw her opportunity. 

“If you’re so relieved to stay, if this is where you want to be, then why won’t you join officially?” 

There was a momentary look of surprise on his mobile face before a more familiar expression of exasperation settled in. “Because I don’t need the hassle of military hierarchy, rules and _regulations_ , Princess. That’s not how I operate. This is a good gig—.” 

“So that’s it? It’s _a good gig_?”

It wasn’t the first time she’d cornered him about the topic of joining up, and it wasn’t even the first time she’d made him uncomfortable by questioning his conflicting statements. But it was the first time she was attempting to get him to admit that there might be more personal reasons for him to join the Rebellion, and his defensive shields were visibly going up as she watched his reaction. He dropped his gaze, breaking off their eye contact. 

“No, that’s _not_ it.” His expression was a mixture of frustration and something else Leia couldn’t quite identify. He scowled. “But I’ve got obligations to meet, and I can’t be tied down.” 

Any sense of relief, along with any gratitude she’d felt for the catharsis of having vouched for him to Rieekan moments ago, evaporated in the jungle heat. What did it matter what her friends Keris or Carlist thought about this man—or even what she thought of him herself—if ultimately he still wanted to leave? For a fleeting moment, she had entertained the advice she’d received from Rieekan about making sure to carve a life for herself outside the war. Keris had said essentially the same thing in their conversation the day before, about the importance of making time for fun and pleasure. But, for Leia, the rebellion against the Empire was more than just something she _did_. 

_It’s who I am. It’s everything._

Palpatine and his minions had taken everything from her. They’d murdered millions of beings, and enslaved millions more. And they had a grip on the galaxy that was steadily growing stronger, despite all of the Alliance’s efforts to thwart them. Regardless of the personal consequences, Leia’s entire life now was focused on removing the Emperor from power and restoring the Republic. And although she treasured her friends and she recognized that much of what Rieekan and Keris had said to her was true, she was beginning to think that she didn’t have room in her life for anything more than that. And certainly not with a man whose idea of commitment was to stick around only until something better came along. 

Looking at him now, she felt a familiar flutter of excitement at the thought of something more developing between them. It was a tantalizing prospect and, in her most private inner thoughts, she acknowledged that she _did_ want more. While she’d been embarrassed to realize how much she’d gushed on about Han to the general, the fact remained that all of it was true. All of it. 

 _But it isn’t enough, is it?_  

They’d shared a promising kiss, and here was Han making another overture in that direction, so it seemed he wanted something more, too. But wanting more and deciding to pursue it were two very different things in Leia’s mind. 

_I can’t afford this. Not with him._

“Leia,” he broke in on her silent contemplation. 

The sound of Han speaking her name never failed to make her pulse race. He used it so seldom, seeming to prefer to call her by her formal titles—and some he’d made up on his own—so when he did call her by her name, she knew he was serious. But when he took a step towards her, she instinctively took a stiff step back and he stopped in his tracks. 

The relentless sun seemed to be soaking through her hair and baking her scalp, and she could’ve sworn she smelled the sickly-sweet tang of jungle jet juice even now. She felt frustration swell within her as the desire to escape to the cool, dark confines of her quarters increased. And Han’s apparent desire to pursue the issue at this point wasn’t helping. 

“I’m tired, Han. And I have a terrible headache. I just want to go to bed. Later I’ll be able to think clearly on how to handle this.” 

“What do you mean, ‘handle this’? Handle _what_?” 

“This—. Whatever it is.” 

“Whatever it is?” Han’s expression darkened. “What do you _think_ it is?” 

She let out a sharp sigh. He was being deliberately provocative now, ignoring her request to drop the subject, and she didn’t appreciate it. “Well...we’re friends.” 

“And?” 

There was a new and hopeful hint of encouragement in his open-ended question, something she found equally beguiling and dismaying. She was almost tempted to take the bait and add what he clearly wanted to hear. But she’d considered her options and she was sure she was making the right decision. She met his gaze with a level one of her own. 

“And maybe we need to keep it that way.”

**The End**


End file.
